Real Love
by margaretsusan
Summary: The sequel to "Yes It Is" and "Tomorrow Never Knows"! A historical fiction/alternate universe story about the Beatles - what if a time traveler could save John's life?
1. Chapter One

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

The rabbit died. That was the expression they used in the 60s, wasn't it, when someone was pregnant? Well, she was definitely pregnant. She knew it, even though there were no instant pregnancy kits available in the 1960s. She knew it, even though she hadn't been able to bring herself to go to a doctor for one of those horrible "rabbit tests". And she was terrified. There were a number of reasons for her fear, and not the least was worrying about 1960s medicine. Did they even have epidurals? And how backwards it was to have to wait until the baby was born to find out its gender?

Maggie knew that she was obsessing about these things to avoid having to think about the thing that worried her most. She sighed to herself, as she turned the corner near her office at Apple Records, and then froze when she saw George Harrison standing just outside of it.

Panic gripped her, and before she knew what she was doing, she found herself darting into a nearby broom closet and pulling the door closed behind her.

This was stupid, and she knew it. She had to talk to George and soon – definitely before she could tell John anything about the pregnancy.

She leaned her head against the wall and moaned quietly, because the fact was, she wasn't sure who the baby's father was, other than that it was definitely a Beatle. More specifically, the father was either John or George.

_ It has to be John_, she thought to herself. _It HAS to_. She didn't have any proof that she'd even done anything that might cause pregnancy with George. Of course, it didn't help that she couldn't actually remember much of what had happened that night, thanks to the unaccustomed amount of alcohol she'd drank. She vowed right then and there to NEVER smoke pot again. What had she been thinking?

George had come over to comfort her when she'd thought that John had left her for Yoko, and one thing had led to another. She knew that they had at least kissed, but whether things had progressed any further, she had no idea. She hadn't admitted anything to John about what had transpired that night – they'd had enough drama to last a lifetime and there was no sense in creating more over something that was over and done, especially when John had proposed a fresh start for both of them. Her kiss with George had been about how it had made her feel at the moment: loved and wanted at a time when she thought the man she loved more than anything else in the world had tossed her aside. For Yoko.

She slid to the floor and rested her chin on her knees, as she hugged them tight to her body.

She'd never brought up that night with George either, embarrassed by the whole situation. Sooner or later she'd have to come to terms with what had really happened. It was past time to get things out in the open, at least between the two of them.

"Maggie Sue?" George's voice sounded softly from the other side of the door. Maggie's head snapped up and she thought frantically. Maybe if she was just quiet he would realize this closet was empty and go away.

The door creaked open an inch, letting in a ray of light, and showing a slice of George's rangy frame and tousled hair.

"You're avoiding me, aren't you?"

She shot to her feet, and began picking up cleaning supplies at random. "No! The mops need to be checked is all. You know, it's important that I make sure things stay clean here. Now go away so I can check them properly, please."

The door closed behind, her and Maggie, breathed out a sigh of relief.

Until the overhead light came on.

Maggie shrieked, and George wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Shhhh luv, it's just me. Calm down!"

Rather then calming down, Maggie jerked away, and tripped over the mop bucket before falling square onto a wet mop, which left the seat of her skirt wet.

"Luv, look at you, you're nearly jumping out of your skin! Are you buzzing?" He said this with a perfectly serious expression on his face. He really was worried. "I thought that everything was alright between you and John now…"

Maggie took his proffered hand and stood up slowly. "No - I mean yes!" Frustrated she closed her eyes, and said between gritted teeth. "No, I'm not high, and yes John and I are fine. Now will you please go away?"

"No."

Maggie opened her eyes and saw George leaning casually across the front of the door, with his arms crossed in front of him.

"What do you mean 'No'?"

"I'm not leaving until you tell me why you're avoiding me."

"Uh…" Maggie, surprised by his directness and unable to answer him, bit her lower lip and started inspecting her split ends with deep fascination.

George drummed his fingers against his bicep, and looked at her unblinking. "You are, aren't you?" He sighed.

"I am what?"

"Damn. I was afraid of this," George said to himself before addressing her. "Luv, don't feel guilty about what happened between us. You didn't know John wasn't really with Yoko. You don't have anything to feel badly about. You needed to be with someone and I was glad I could be there for you. There's nothing wrong with that."

Maggie stared at the mop bucket silently.

"Does he know?" George asked.

"NO!" Maggie finally looked at him. "Are you crazy?"

"I think he'd understand. Well, I might get a punch in the mouth, but ultimately I think he'd get how unhappy you were, and well, we were both high and you were also drunk, so it's not like something we'd have done normally."

"Are you CRAZY?" Maggie gaped at George like had two heads. "There's no way he'd understand."

"What's the big deal? People do it all the time – it doesn't have to mean anything. I mean, it did mean something to me, because it was you," George added hastily. "But it doesn't have to be a big thing…"

"George, I'm pregnant." Maggie couldn't bear to hear him keep going on about how little sex meant. She already knew that Beatles treated sex like it was nothing. God, how could she have gotten herself into this?

"That's wonderful! Congratulations! John must be thrilled." George opened his arms up to hug her, but she held her hand against his chest, keeping him at arms length.

"You ARE crazy. He doesn't know."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm not sure who the father is!" Why wasn't George catching on to what she was trying to tell him?

George looked thunderstruck. "WHAT? You didn't…. who was it? Not Mick, I hope?"

Maggie just stared at him, her jaw hanging open in surprise. Was he really _that_ thick? "No, dummy, I'm talking about you. I don't know if it's John's or… or yours."

George burst out laughing. "Maggie, luv, you're a little old to need a lecture on how babies are made, aren't you?"

"I know how babies are made," Maggie snapped. "What I'm not clear on is exactly what happened between us that night."

"Oh? Oh…" George sobered up quickly.

"I can't remember anything after we starting kissing," Maggie admitted. "The next thing I knew, I was waking up in just a t-shirt and you came into the room wearing nothing but a towel."

"Oh, luv, I'm so sorry – I didn't know you'd blacked out or I would have reassured you sooner."

Maggie looked up at him hopefully.

"Nothing happened. I mean, other than us snogging a bit." At Maggie's slightly blank look he clarified. "Kissing. That's all."

"That's all? Really?" Relief washed over Maggie. The baby was definitely John's and now she could enjoy it without guilt. That night she'd been broken-hearted at the thought of losing the love of her life and had kissed her best friend in a moment of drunken and drugged abandon. That she could deal with. That sounded way better than getting drunk and then knocked up by her now-husband's bandmate did.

"Yes, really. Not that I didn't want to, you know… do more, but you were really out of it and so cooler heads prevailed. Are we going to be okay then, you and I?" He looked at her, a worried expression painted across his face.

Maggie smiled at him, and leaned over to hug him. "Of course, George. Thank you - for coming over when I called, and for taking care of me. I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. I just didn't know what to think about that night, and when I found out I was pregnant…I was just so afraid that I'd screwed things up between me and John, and me and you – and you and John. I just didn't know what to do."

"It's okay. But you know you can always come to me, no matter what, right?" George hugged her tight.

"I do. Thank you."

George leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "Congratulations on the baby. I'd tell you to name it after me, but I wouldn't want to give John the wrong idea," he winked. George couldn't resist teasing her. "Although, you could always just tell him, you're naming it after your favorite Beatle…"

"Why would I saddle a baby with a name like Ringo?"

"Touché," George laughed. "I'd better let you get back to work. We have plans to record some demos of things we wrote in India at my place later this week. You'll come, right?"

"I wouldn't miss it." Maggie sighed happily, glad and content that this had all been sorted out. She had her best friend back, John didn't want Yoko, and all was right in the world!

George whistled as he walked down the hallway. The memory of what had happened between he and Maggie was still fresh even though that fateful night had been nearly two months ago. She'd been devastated by the belief that she'd caught John and Yoko together.

The kiss had started innocently enough. Maggie Sue had been looking up at him, with tears in her eyes, so vulnerable and sweet. Their lips had been so close that it barely took any movement on his part to touch his to hers.

He couldn't explain what had happened next, or why. It was as if his mind had left and his body was merely reacting to the familiar feeling of having a woman in his arms. The fact that he cared deeply for this woman was what had gotten him into this position, but once he was there, pure instinct and years of conditioning had taken over. It wasn't all his fault. In his defense, she'd kissed him back. And when his tongue had gently probed her mouth, she'd responded to his touch, opening herself up to him.

Their kisses had gone from gentle and exploratory to passionate, and it wasn't long before George realized that they were lying down on the bed, and that he was on top of her. The curves of her body fit his lanky form perfectly.

He'd struggled a bit for self-control, but forced himself to pull back for a moment and contemplate the situation. He knew he could happily go through with this, and not feel the least bit guilty about it. If John had done what he appeared to have done, then he didn't deserve her. As for Pattie, well, he'd been unfaithful before. That was no big deal. Especially as this woman was a friend, and a friend who needed comfort. He was glad to have been there to supply it.

Yes, the memory of that night was still fresh for George and now the scene replayed itself in his head unasked.

_George looked down at Maggie's tearstained face and suddenly realized that if he were to make love to her, he didn't want it to be this way. He didn't want it to seem like he was taking pity on her, or taking advantage of the state she was in. Maggie didn't indulge often, and she'd gotten both very drunk and high tonight. No, this wasn't the right time for this._

_ Settling himself next to her, he gave her a gentle kiss on the lips and stroked her hair away from her face. "Sweetheart, I think we'd better stop. It's been a difficult night for you, and much as I'd like to do this, I think you'll regret it tomorrow. And I don't want that. I would never want you to regret anything that happened between us."_

_ His words filtered through the haze in her brain and made her sit up suddenly. "Oh God, George. What are we doing? This is wrong! Pattie..."_

_ "Shh, it's okay. Don't worry about anything."_

_ "But..."_

_ "You're unhappy and not in control. It's okay to not be in control sometimes."_

_ "But we were..."_

_ "But we didn't. Luv, don't think about it anymore tonight. You really just need some rest right now. Why don't we get you changed, so you can get some sleep? I'll stay in the guest room in case you need me."_

_ "Okay. God, this is so embarrassing." Maggie put her head in her hands._

_ "Why, luv? We were only doing what was natural. But in the state you're in tonight, it just...didn't feel right. But I'd be more than happy to, well, pick this up another time, if you ever wanted to."_

_ "George..."_

_ "Let's just leave it at that for now, okay?" He went over to the dresser and rummaged through the drawers until he came up with a large t-shirt. "Why don't we get you into this." He handed it to her._

_ "Turn around!"_

_ "Please, it's nothing I haven't seen before. I'm a Beatle, remember?" He grinned at her, but turned around to oblige her. When she had changed, he tucked her in. She was half-asleep already. She would be fine for tonight. He wasn't sure how she would be tomorrow though, once the enormity of tonight sunk in, plus she was certain to have one hell of a hangover. _

_ One thing was for sure, he was going to have a few choice words for John. Yoko! How could he hook up with that biscuit-stealing bitch? He kissed Maggie's forehead fondly and went downstairs to lock up before crashing in the guest room._

Pulling his mind back to the present, George wandered into his office, and sat down for a moment. After going over everything he'd said to Maggie that night in his head, he was half-glad she couldn't remember everything. He had meant what he'd said, though at the time he'd thought John had been on the verge of leaving her. If she'd been left on her own, the temptation to pursue her himself might be strong. George contemplated his life with Pattie and tried to gauge his own sense of happiness.

It was a moot point now. John and Maggie were now happily married, and her friendship was more than enough for him. Knowing that she was cared for and about was what was important. Especially now that there was a baby on the way. He felt a twinge of jealousy. What if it had been his? Could he even have children? He and Pattie had never used birth control and he hadn't managed to get her pregnant yet. He knew she wanted a baby badly. Maybe they should start really trying again. Maybe having a family would cure some of the restlessness George had felt since returning from India. At this point, George wasn't sure what would. Increasingly, being a Beatle didn't feel like it was enough. As full as his life was, it often rang hollow and empty. He'd felt on the verge of something in India, but having to leave abruptly had shattered some of the peace for him.

Just then, a cute blonde passed by his door. He hadn't noticed her before – was she a new secretary? As a part owner of Apple, wasn't it George's job to find out? His lips quirked into a lopsided grin as he left his office in pursuit of what might prove to be an interesting diversion.

* * *

><p>AN Thanks for your patience in waiting for this story! We'll try to post a chapter a week! We love feedback!


	2. Chapter Two

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

Maggie sank into her office chair. She leaned over and put her head in her hands. She was so relieved she could cry. Her baby truly was John's. The knowledge that she and George hadn't done anything more than kiss was like a weight off her shoulders. For almost two months she'd shoved the guilt from that night away. John had wanted a clean start for both of them, and she knew he meant it. But underneath it all, she still felt guilty, and the pregnancy had meant that she couldn't hide from what happened that night after all.

But now that she knew the truth, she felt that she could put that night behind her. For the first time in what seemed like years, she felt she could breathe again, and the invisible vise that had been clenching her chest was suddenly gone. George was still her best friend, and John was the love of her life, and they were going to have a baby together.

"Miss, are you okay?"

A slender blond was standing in her doorway.

Maggie looked up, surprised. "Yes, I'm fine, thanks. It's just been a long day."

"It's barely lunchtime..." The girl smiled. "Can I get you some coffee or something?"

"God, I'd love some…" Maggie started and then remembered she was pregnant. Damn. She kept forgetting she had to stay away from caffeine, at least for the first trimester. "Actually, I'm okay. But thank you. Wait, who are you? Are you new?"

Maggie made it her business to know the people that worked for her and she'd never seen this woman before.

"Sort of. I'm Chris O'Dell...a friend of Derek's. We met in California, and he invited me out here, long story… anyway, I'm just helping out wherever I can. You're not paying me or anything," she was quick to add. "I mean, I'd love a job, but for now, I'd just like to be useful. Right now I'm subbing in for Derek's secretary who's out sick. I was actually dropping off something from Derek, but your secretary seems to be out. Should I just leave it on her desk, or…" Chris trailed off a little uncertainly, as if she'd just realized that she was talking to the head of Apple instead of chatting with a friend.

"Oh, it's okay, I'll take it." Maggie held out her hand and Chris walked over to her desk and handed her the interoffice envelope. Maggie smiled at her. Chris seemed friendly, but not overly so. As the head of Apple, Maggie had gotten a feel for the kind of people who were only looking for handouts or favors. Chris didn't strike her as one of them.

"So, are you a Beatles fan?" Maggie couldn't help asking.

"Who isn't?" Chris grinned. Actually Chris had just run into GEORGE HARRISON in the hallway and he'd actually talked to her. She could hardly believe this was her life, hanging out at Apple and talking to Beatles. But then Chris had always gone where the wind blew her and usually she ended up someplace interesting. "I think London is the most exciting place in the world right now. I can't believe I get to experience it! I just couldn't pass up the chance to see it all for myself."

"I know what you mean," Maggie smiled back. If only Chris knew just how unlikely Maggie's own life here in 60s Swinging London actually was.

"Well, I guess I'd better get back."

"All right. Well, it was nice to meet a fellow American expat," Maggie said.

"Likewise! And if you need anything, you know where to find me." She turned to go, only to find her way blocked by another Beatle.

"Well, hello Chris. How are you doing?" Paul said.

"Hi Paul, fine, thanks." She grinned up at him, but not in a flirtatious manner, more in just a friendly and open way. Maggie found herself approving of this new girl.

"I see you've met Maggie Sue?"

"Just now."

"Chris is helping Derek out," Paul explained to Maggie.

"I heard," Maggie said.

"I came to steal you away for lunch, Maggie. I'm meeting Linda, and she told me that you work too hard and to tell you she insists."

"How can I refuse an offer like that? Okay, let me just grab my bag."

Chris turned to go past Paul, but his friendly arm around her shoulder kept her in the room. "Chris, join us for lunch?"

"Uh, I'd love to, but I don't want to intrude… Plus I'm supposed to fetch lunch for some of the other execs…"

"All right, then. Some other time," Paul said smoothly. A little too smoothly for Maggie Sue's taste. She knew Paul was devoted to Linda, but he was still a Beatle and she knew he could probably have any woman he wanted. Maggie wasn't even quite sure how seduction-proof she herself was. Paul was a friend, and just a friend, and John was her soulmate – but the Beatles were all too charming. In any case, Maggie hoped Paul would behave around Chris.

Paul and Maggie walked into the pub, and recognizing them instantly, one of the waiters quickly showed them to a private booth in the back that couldn't be seen from the door.

"Thanks," Paul said. "Listen, my wife will be joining us – can you send her back here when she shows up?"

"Of course, Paul," the waiter said. Maggie marveled once again at the odd experience of being famous. Paul had no need to describe his wife for the waiter. Everyone knew who Linda was.

"Are you coming to George's later this week?" Paul asked once the waiter had gone off with their drink orders. "We're recording some demos, you know."

"I wouldn't miss it! I can't wait to hear all the songs you guys wrote in India become real Beatles tunes."

"You know them all already, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I'm sure there are bound to be some surprises – and getting to see the process – well, it's just exciting is all!"

"You're such a fan." Paul smiled at her and shook his head.

"Shall I shriek and try to rip your clothes off next time I see you, then?"

"Anytime you want, luv." Paul grinned.

At that, Maggie playfully smacked him on the arm. "You, sir, are a married man now! No more of that for you!"

"Married, old, and stodgy. Terrible." Paul shook his head in mock sorrow.

"Whatever. You love it. You love being married and saying things like 'My wife will be joining us.'"

"You know, you're right – I do," Paul mused.

"And I think she's here." Maggie gestured to the slim, blonde woman walking towards their table.

"Hello, Mrs. McCartney!" Paul said, getting up to give his wife a big hug and kiss.

"Guys, I'm right here," Maggie said after the kiss became protracted. She rolled her eyes, but was secretly thrilled that Paul and Linda were so in love. Plus she knew Paul was partly doing it to get back at her for years of watching her and John carry on.

"Hello, Maggie!" Linda leaned over and gave her a hug as well, and then sat down next to Paul in the booth. "Where's John?"

"Still in bed, the lazy bum. He's been staying up late working on songs, and you know how often he bothers to show up at Apple." Maggie smiled at Paul, knowing that he was the only one of the four of them that turned up every day without fail. Though none of them ever showed up much before noon.

"Well, we'd hoped to tell both of you at the same time," Linda said, "But I just can't wait anymore. We're going to have a baby!"

Maggie's eyes widened. "You're pregnant?"

"Yes!" Linda glowed and Paul looked at her proudly.

"That's wonderful! Congratulations, both of you!"

Maggie couldn't believe it – she and Linda were going to have babies at the same time – or nearly. It was another deviation in the timeline – but Maggie couldn't help but be thrilled over this one!

Linda and Paul beamed at Maggie, and it was all Maggie could do to keep from bursting with her own news. But John didn't know yet, and he should be the first to know. Oops, rather the second. George had already been the first. As much as she was excited to tell Paul and Linda, she couldn't wait to see the look on John's face. She knew he wanted to have children with her. He was so much more comfortable with Julian than he used to be too. He would be a great father to their child. She could feel it.

Maggie walked in the door after work, and no sooner had she shut it then a familiar set of arms encircled her and pulled her back to his chest.

"I missed you." Maggie felt John's warm breath against her ear, before he left a soft kiss there.

"I've only been gone a few hours." But Maggie smiled in spite of herself; she'd missed him too. A part of her, and she wasn't willing to dwell on just how much, completely understood Yoko's desire in that other timeline to constantly be with John. _Mine. He's all mine! _Maggie's hands tightened over John's possessively, and she leaned back against him.

"But it's felt like ages, luv." His kisses left her ear and worked their way down her neck, while his hands worked their way steadily up.

"John!" she protested.

"Come to bed, luv."

"Bed? Isn't that where you've been all day?" she chided him gently.

"Please, I got up hours ago. Okay, an hour ago." John gave her a slightly chagrined look. "I was up late writing songs, you know. BEATLE songs," he emphasized, knowing how much his wife loved his band. It was what had brought them together, although the full story was much more complicated than that.

"Don't you want to hear how my day was? I have news!"

"Let's have it then, luv," John said patiently, taking her by the hand and leading her slowly towards the stairs.

"Well..."

"And we'll have that briefcase." John deftly whisked it from her hands and placed it on the table in the foyer.

"I had lunch with Linda and Paul," she began, deciding to leave her own pregnancy announcement for last.

"Oh yes?" John said, as he guided her up to the landing.

"Yes – they're...John!" Somehow John already had her blouse undone and he was working on her skirt.

"I'm listening, go on!" He fiddled with the clasp on her belt.

"Paul and Linda are going to have a baby!"

"Really?" John looked up at that. "Shocking, that is. People will be counting the months!" He shook his finger in mock-disapproval.

"Oh, please!" Maggie laughed. "You Beatles are famous for knocking up your girlfriends. Let's see, there's Ringo..." she teased, knowing that she was possibly skirting dangerous territory, though John had a pretty good sense of humor about the fact that he'd done just that himself. Of course, he didn't know that he'd essentially done it twice, since Maggie was pretty sure she'd gotten pregnant before the wedding.

"Don't forget Paul and Dot,"John said.

"That Paul gets around, doesn't he?"

"So do I, luv," John said with a gleam in his eye.

"I know," Maggie teased him. Should she tell him now? But it was too late – while they'd been talking John had maneuvered her into her bedroom, and he cut off any further words with his lips. His hands freed her from her slip, and he pushed her down on the bed, fumbling at his trousers. She decided her announcement could wait, and eagerly helped him take off the rest of his clothes.

"You are positively radiant, luv." Calloused fingers traced her cheek. "Whatever it is you've been doing lately to bring on this glow, you need to keep doing it. Or me. Your preference." John leered at her playfully making Maggie laugh.

Lying on their sides facing each other, emotionally and physically sated, Maggie couldn't imagine anything that could make this moment in time any better than it already was. Except…

"Sure, just so long as you don't mind the requisite hormone-induced mood swings that usually accompany a pregnancy." Maggie smiled at him demurely and batted her eyes.

John leaned over to kiss her nose and then froze. Both eyebrows shot up in understanding. "Wait a tick… I thought you said it was Paul and Linda. Are you saying...?"

Maggie nodded her head and giggled into the pillow, somehow feeling shy, relieved, and excited all at once.

John let out a massive whoop and leapt out of bed, knocking all the covers off the bed in the process. "This is brilliant, Miss Margaret! Simply brilliant!" He ran into the closet and started looking through drawers and shoe boxes, occasionally mumbling "brilliant" and "going to have a baby" excitedly.

Maggie sat up, confused now. "John?" Shouldn't he want to take her in his arms and make love to her? Again? "What are you doing in there?"

"Found it!" his voice echoed from the back of the wardrobe.

"Found what?"

"This!" Leaping from the closet John brought out the worst weapon Maggie Sue had ever seen in her life.

A Nikon camera.

And aimed it right at her sprawled naked form, shooting photos for all he was worth.

This would not end well.

"John!" Maggie shrieked, desperately grabbing for the sheets and blankets that were no longer there. "Stop! Stop! Stop! This isn't funny!"

"It's not supposed to be funny." _Snap!_ "It's perfect." _Snap!_ "It's brilliant!" _Snap!_ "You, just like this, all glowing, and motherly and natural…" _Snap!_ "Why it's perfect for our next album cover!" _Snap! Snap! Snap!_

"You wouldn't DARE!"

_Snap!_ "Wouldn't I?" _Snap!_ "Luv, you're so beautiful, and you completely capture the essence what I want for the album." _Snap!_ "All the natural spiritualism of India." _Snap! Snap! Snap!_

Maggie tried stacking pillows in front of her in a vain effort to preserve her modesty. "John, I'm flattered really," _Snap!_ "But hell will have to freeze over before I over showed up on a Beatles album cover NAKED." _Snap!_

"What if I posed with you?" _Snap! Snap! Snap!_ "We'd be like two virgins, showing our pure and natural love for each other." _Snap!_

Maggie's eyes widened in horror, and she lunged off the bed at John. "Noooooo!"

He tried to dance away from her but she was too quick for him. Her slender fingers wrapped around the camera and with more force than he'd ever seen her exhibit, she hurled it against the wall. Her momentum carried her into him and they crashed to the floor in heap.

They lay there for a moment, limbs tangled, Maggie panting, and John with his eyebrows raised again and a sardonic smile on his lips.

"Luv."

"I'm not sorry John! No way, never ever, not in a million years..."

"The camera was empty."

"Huh?"

"It had no film in it."

Maggie scrunched her eyes closed and rested her forehead on his collarbone, embarrassed again. She should have known better – John knew her well enough by now that there was no way he would have seriously used naked pictures of her for the album cover. It was just that once he'd suggested posing "naked as two virgins," she'd freaked, because she knew he wouldn't balk at that. He'd done it once before, hadn't he?

"I'm sorry John. That was the camera Linda gave you for your birthday, wasn't it?"

"Don't worry about it, luv." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You're the mother of our child. For the next nine months you can do no wrong."

"Seven months."

"Seven?" John looked as if he were counting backwards. "You mean..."

"Yep. That's twice for you, Lennon!"

"I only hope it doesn't affect my career as a Beatle!"

She chuckled, and could feel it reverberating in his chest. "But still, I really am sorry about your camera."

His arms squeezed her tight to him. "Hush, let's have no more of that. Though I can think of at least one way you can make it up to me…"

"Why Mr. Lennon, whatever do you mean?"

Preferring action to words, he buried one hand into her long loose tresses, and pulled her down into a kiss.

Maggie Sue didn't mind in the least.

She was going to have a baby. And it was John's.

* * *

><p>AN

If you don't know who Chris O' Dell is, she was an American who lucked into a job at Apple and ended up being BFF with Pattie, George and Mo. She was kind of like the Forrest Gump of Beatles fans - she witnessed so much stuff that no one else was there for. And she was no groupie - but she definitely had an amazing part in 60s and 70s rock. She wrote a book that I don't want to spoil by saying too much about what happens to her. (Just search Amazon or whatever under her name and you'll find the book! I can't link here.)

Go read it right now - you will thank us later! (Plus, it was impossible to resist putting her in the story since this is exactly the time period she was really there. She started at Apple not too long after the band got back from India.)


	3. Chapter Three

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Paul looked over at his wife as she slept. He couldn't believe that they were really together – and for good this time. He couldn't remember ever being so happy. Suddenly he went cold. Linda was his wife. That meant… cancer. He'd nearly woken Linda up right then and there to tell her what he knew about her future. But she didn't have cancer right now – it was still somewhere off on the horizon. Still, she should know. He would talk to Maggie Sue when he saw her tonight and ask if she would help him break the news to Linda. Paul settled back onto his pillow, but he wasn't sure he would be able to fall asleep. The knowledge of the future weighed so heavily on him. The only thing he had to cling to was that Maggie Sue had told him that in the future she'd altered by warning them all in 1964 Linda was all right. He had to believe that was true. Linda's daily presence in his life was so new, but already he couldn't imagine living a single day without her.

"What's your schedule today, luv"? John asked. "Don't forget we're going over to George's tonight."

"To record demos for the Whi...er, your next album? I wouldn't miss it!" Maggie smiled. She leaned over the breakfast table to give John a quick kiss. "What time are we heading over there?"

"I think Pattie is going to have dinner for us..."

Maggie grimaced. George and Pattie were heavily into their vegetarianism and were currently going through a raw foods phase. "Thanks for the warning. I'll make sure I fill up at tea."

"Tea?"

"I'm having tea with Jane."

"Oh, luv – I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"What? Why? That's ridiculous. Besides it took forever to set this up, between her schedule and..."

"Luv, Jane and Paul are over. Done."

"So, that means we're all done with her?"

John just shrugged.

"You know, once Pattie warned me you'd feel that way. But I don't get it. I've been friends with Jane for years. We all have." She looked at him pointedly. "We've even vacationed with her. You don't just drop friends like that. But no, wait…" Maggie slowed, what she'd read in countless books coming back to her. "That's exactly what you Beatles do isn't it? You just cut people out of your life without a backwards glance." John wouldn't quite meet her eye. "Well, frankly, I think it's a terrible way to treat friends, and I'm not going to be like that."

"When it's over, it's over. I don't know how else to explain it." He still wouldn't look at her. Apparently the china pattern on his plate was fascinating.

"No, John. It's that none of you like confrontation, so it's easier for you to just walk away than to deal with the fallout of your decisions. It's cowardly. What you did to Pete..." Maggie couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. She loved the Beatles dearly, despite their faults – but their treatment of Pete Best was something that had always bothered her as a fan. And now she was calling the real John Lennon out on it. Whether she doing it as a wife or as a fan she wasn't sure. But the words came out before she could check herself.

John was silent. He couldn't really deny the things that she was saying. He knew she'd read more biographies about the Beatles than he cared to remember. "Pete was years ago," he said stiffly.

Maggie leaned over. "Do you not feel anything about what you guys did to him? Not so much replacing him. I know that's what you felt you had to do, and Ringo obviously belongs in the group... but having Brian do it - and then never speaking to him again for the rest of your lives? He was your friend. You shared Hamburg together - and then never another word?" Maggie shook her head. "I guess I'm just not built that way."

John stayed silent, which surprised Maggie. She'd expected sharp words, a fight. Clearly there was some deeply buried guilt. It'd been easily pushed aside during the sheer excitement of Beatlemania until it had been conveniently forgotten about.

"What do you want from me?" John twisted his napkin, clearly uneasy. "What's done is done."

"I don't know - maybe you could apologize to Pete for the way you treated him. See him next time we're in Liverpool. Life is too short to..." She stopped when she realized what she'd said.

"My life is too short."

"Oh John, no," she said hastily, reaching out a hand to him. "I didn't mean it that way. But it is true that life is short. For all of us."

John took her hand and squeezed it. He finally looked up, with a chagrined look on his face. "I'll think about it."

Maggie's jaw dropped. "You will?"

"Yes. Damn you. You're a bad influence on me. Making me all soft. I have a reputation, you know." He looked at the fingernails on his other hand, inspecting them for invisible grit.

Maggie smiled at him. "I know. You're John Lennon, professional Bad Boy. And I love you for it."

John gave her a real smile, the kind that lit up his face. The kind that used to make her swoon slightly when looking at photos of him on the internet with her best friend Jenny Sue. "Can I tell Jane you said hello?" she teased.

"Of course."

She kissed him affectionately and ruffled his hair.

After he helped her clear the breakfast dishes, Maggie got her things, ready to race over to Apple. She had some work she wanted to get done before leaving early for tea.

"Luv, luv - running everywhere at such a speed."

"Going back to bed, then?" she asked John as she grabbed her shoulder bag.

"Think I'm lazy?"

"Think I'm crazy?" she countered.

"Yes. But that's why I love you. Off to work with you. I've got songs to write." He kissed her and shooed her out the door.

"Jane!" Maggie got up from the table where she'd been waiting to greet her friend.

"Maggie!" Jane gave her a hug. "It's been far too long!"

"I know, it really has. Have I even seen you since India?"

"I guess not." Jane sat down and looked for a place to stow her bag. "Things have been so busy, time has really flown."

"How are you doing?"

"Well, thanks, and you?"

"Great!"

Maggie decided maybe it'd be best to get the elephant in the room out of the way. She knew that she and Jane had been on good terms in India, even after the debacle of the fancy dress party. But now Jane's boyfriend was married to one of Maggie's best friends. It was…awkward.

"Jane, I'm so sorry about how everything happened. With Paul."

"Oh, it's all right. Not your fault."

Maggie shifted uncomfortably. As far as Jane knew, Maggie wasn't involved. She didn't know that Maggie had been campaigning for Linda practically since they'd met at that Beatles concert in '66.

"But I feel badly. Especially since Linda is my friend and I've kind of been in the middle. I'd understand if you never wanted anything to do with us ever again. But I hope that's not the case."

"Oh, Maggie, I know it seems terribly awkward – but really, it was all just Paul and I. We wanted different things. I think everyone else knew that was true, but it took Paul and I a really long time to admit it to each other." Jane tilted her head to the side and gave Maggie a lovely, yet sad smile. "I guess it took a lot less time for Paul to figure out what he really wanted. He waited what, a week after we broke up to get married to someone else?"

Maggie felt her face flush. She'd forgotten that what seemed completely normal to her would look crazy to the rest of the world. To her, Linda and Paul had already been married for thirty years. "Yeah. I guess there's nothing like your ex-boyfriend's wedding being splashed all over the papers, let alone right after you break up. I'm so sorry, Jane."

"It's all right." It clearly wasn't. "Or it will be someday. At any rate, you and I are fine." She took a sip of tea, and then looked at Maggie over the rim of her cup. "I'm glad you want to stay friends in spite of everything. I have to confess I was a little surprised. It's not the Beatle way you know. You only get one chance with that lot, and when they're done with you..."

"Yeah, I know. Beatles." Maggie just shook her head. "Ridiculous boys. But enough about them. I have some news." She had intended on telling Linda and Paul about her pregnancy first – but Jane was here, and Jane was a friend – and it just felt right.

Jane set down her tea cup, and dabbed at the corners of her mouth daintily with her cloth napkin. Then she fixed her eyes on Maggie, giving her full attention.

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"I'm pregnant!" There she had said it. Maggie bit her lip and looked at Jane, unsure of how she would react to the news.

She needn't have worried. A smile blossomed across her friend's face and she leaned forward to take Maggie Sue's hand in hers.

"Oh that's wonderful! Unless you're about to tell me that Paul is the father – because that would be even more awkward for all involved."

Maggie's face turned mock serious. "Oh, I know. What would Ringo think? Even if I named the baby Richie, the eyelashes would give his real father away!"

"I hope it's a girl, those lashes are ridiculous on a boy." Jane's mouth twitched at the corner.

Maggie let out a loud guffaw and then clapped her hand over her mouth. Jane broke out into laughter at the expression on Maggie's face. Neither girl could help their reaction - they both knew how vain Paul was about his long lashes. Any lingering tension instantly dissipated, as Maggie and Jane giggled like two school girls gossiping about how silly boys were. And they were, in this case, very silly.

* * *

><p>AN

It's nice that Maggie and Jane are still friends - but will Pete and John kiss and make up? And if they do, will Paul be jealous of the kissing part? ;-)

See you next week!


	4. Chapter Four

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Maggie sat totally enraptured, as the sound wove its spell over her, making her forget all thoughts of pregnancy announcements or teas with Beatle ex-girlfriends. Tonight was, after all, about music. Beatles music, which was one of the things she loved best in the world. Here at George's house, she had a front seat for the creation of what fans in the future would know as the "Esher" or "Kinfauns" session, when the Beatles played over the thirty or so songs they'd written while they'd been in India.

This was not the sort of thing they'd ever done before. Individually they'd all at one time or another recorded demos to bring in to EMI to play for the others – but they'd never recorded them together as a full group. For all Maggie knew, they would never do this again, unless she could keep the band from splintering apart as it had in her time.

After a dinner, which featured a delicious, vegetarian, squash soup (and hadn't been raw at all), everyone adjourned to George's home studio. Maggie, Linda, Mo, and Pattie made themselves comfortable on the sofa, armchairs, and assorted cushions while the boys set up their equipment and tuned. They would futz with the technicalities of recording later; for now they would just play. Maggie watched in amazement as what was essentially a live concert of the White Album unfolded in front of her.

"Julia" sounded similar to how she'd heard it in India, but John had refined it since then. The verses still weren't in the order she knew either. Next was Blackbird. Everyone, even John, who could be especially critical of Paul, admired his delicate, solo rendition. "Back in the USSR" rocked but lacked a final verse. Maggie waited almost curiously to see if Paul would grab Ringo's sticks and shove him off his throne, but no, he played his bass peacefully, leaving Ringo to handle the drumming. Maggie wondered who would play drums on the final cut.

Pattie clapped her hands when the band launched into "Wild Honey Pie" and she leaped up, pulling Maggie with her. The two of them danced around and sang the few lyrics to each other. The song had been a favorite camp-fire singalong song of Pattie's in India. Maggie had never liked it on the White Album, but she'd come around to it because it had such good memories attached to it now. The other "Honey Pie" song, Maggie loved, though she could tell John was trying not to roll his eyes. She sang along to that one too, making Paul grin.

Song by song, the White Album came alive: Mother Nature's Son, Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da, Dear Prudence, Sexy Sadie (with any mention of the Maharishi long since written out), Cry Baby Cry. The whole group, girls included, contributed animal noises to Bungalow Bill. "The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill," John corrected, making her laugh about his continuing fixation with his own (lengthy) song titles. "Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey" ("Can we please just call this one "Me and My Monkey?" Maggie teased John) segued into "I'm So Tired", a song about Paul's indecision about Linda, and not John's indecision about Yoko.

"Revolution" was first played slowly, and then after a whispered hint to John, the band really ripped through the song. John's wail of "all right" had Maggie jumping up and down and applauding and encouraging the other girls and yell and shriek for their Beatles like it was 1964 again.

After they all calmed down, George started gently picking the opening to "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" and Maggie sat in rapt attention. She still loved this acoustic version as much as she loved the final version with Clapton's riffs on it. She was so moved by the performance that she had to furtively wipe a few tears away. George caught her and gave her a lopsided grin. Then to make her smile he launched into a silly version of "Piggies", which his bandmates latched on to right away.

The Beatles were clearly still a band and though they hadn't played most of these songs together before (or at least not since India), they retained their musical shorthand, started in Hamburg and developed in the years since. It allowed them to easily follow chord changes and see where the song was going to go. It warmed Maggie's heart and gave her hope that the band might not be falling apart after all. What had one author called the White Album? The sound of a band decomposing? Perhaps this time it would be the band coming together.

Then there were the songs that might or might not end up as Beatles tracks. Maggie knew the slightly wistful-sounding "Junk" from Paul's first solo album. She liked that song and hoped that it would end up being a Beatles track instead. Then one she didn't love as much, "What's the New Mary Jane", and of course, several of George's that Paul and John would likely ignore, "Not Guilty", "Sour Milk Sea", and "Circles".

The night stretched on, but went by in a flash.

After the band was finished running through the songs, working them out as they went, they settled down to the work of recording demo tracks for use later in the studio. Maureen went to call the sitter to see how the kids were, and Pattie busied herself in the kitchen, leaving Linda and Maggie to settle down in the living room.

"Would you like some wine?" Linda offered. There were still a number of uncorked bottles left over from dinner.

"No, thanks," Maggie said, remembering she was pregnant. "And actually, you shouldn't have any either."

"Why's that?"

"It's not good for the baby," she said.

"Says who?" Linda laughed.

"The surgeon general. And cigarette smoke is bad too."

"Since when? And wait, what do you mean, have any either?" Linda was finally realizing the significance of Maggie's refusal of the wine.

"That's right," Maggie said. She'd been dying to tell Linda, and she couldn't hold it in any longer. "I'm pregnant too!"

"You're what? Oh my God!" Linda gave Maggie a big hug. "We're both pregnant! Our kids are going to be best friends! Or maybe we'll have a boy and a girl and they'll get married and…"

"Oh my God, wouldn't that be great!" Maggie couldn't help catching Linda's enthusiasm.

"What are you both screaming about?" Pattie asked. She'd finished up the dishes, and had come over to pour herself a glass of wine.

"Should we tell?" Linda asked Maggie.

"Sure," Maggie said, instantly feeling bad for Pattie, who would never have the children she wanted. There was no point in hiding what was going to be obvious soon enough.

"We're both pregnant!" Linda exclaimed.

"Oh! OH!" said Pattie, who gave them both excited hugs, completely masking any sadness on her own part.

"What are you three on about?" Maureen asked as she came into the kitchen.

"Maggie and Linda are both expecting," Pattie smiled.

"Really? Well, congratulations, both of you!" she said, and she exchanged hugs with both women too. She was still cool towards Maggie, which made Maggie's conscience twinge. She needed to settle things with Maureen. This antagonism had gone on long enough. Maureen had done some not-so-nice things to Maggie, but then Maggie had helped fuel the unpleasantness. The problem was, Maggie didn't have a clue what to say to fix things. Nor did Maggie want to say the wrong thing and make everything worse. Or make Mo think she was just plain crazy. After all, one of the inherent dangers of being a time traveler was saying too much.

* * *

><p>AN

Will Maggie and Mo make-up? Will Maggie admit she's a time traveler? Will Linda and Maggie's kids grow up and get married and live happily ever after? Ok, that last question won't be answered in this fic, but hey, that gives us an idea... ;-)

We'd also like to say Happy 71st birthday to John!

See you next week!


	5. Chapter Five

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

"Thanks for coming!" Pattie said as she saw her guests to the door. Maureen and Ringo had left already, but the rest had lingered a bit over their goodnights. Pattie hugged Maggie, Linda, and then their respective Beatles goodbye.

"It's 3am. Get out!" George said, though it was with a smile on his face. He winked at Maggie as he pulled Pattie back in the house and closed the door.

The two couples walked out to their cars with John and Paul still chattering excitedly to each other about plans for the upcoming album. Both of them were still so buzzed that Maggie wondered what they were on. As tired as Maggie was (the pregnancy was knocking her out), she was always happy to see John and Paul so close. She watched them sometimes, for a squabble (and there were many) that might spell the beginning of the end of the Beatles.

Tonight they seemed perfectly in tune with each other, much to Maggie's relief.

"We're going to Paul's for a nightcap, luv," John said, interrupting her thoughts.

Maggie stifled a yawn. She was going to pay for such a late night tomorrow, but Linda's face looked hopeful, so she smiled and nodded. Probably Linda wanted to chat more about their pregnancies, something they hadn't felt comfortable doing around Pattie. Maggie wished with all her heart that Pattie could have the baby she wanted so badly. Truthfully, Maggie wasn't a big baby person herself, and had been ambivalent about the idea of having children. Having John Lennon's child was something else again, though. It was like she was responsible for the next heir to rock royalty, which seemed to give the whole proceedings more weight, even if that was only in her head. Plus, John was so thrilled, that she couldn't help but be happy about it, even though deep down she was terrified.

It wasn't even just the fear of having a child in this backwards decade. What she and John had done was create a new person, one that never should have existed. Nearly everything she'd interfered with could be reverted to how it had been. But a baby? That was big. Maggie steered her thoughts away from the fact that that too could be reverted to how things had been. She focused instead on the fact that she was going to have a child with the love of her life, the beautiful Beatle who had looked at her from posters and books and lunchboxes her whole life. Millions of women would kill to be in her place. And more than that, she was going to get to share the experience with one of her closest friends.

_Imagine__that__ – __Linda__McCartney__is__my__best__friend!_

Maggie still sometimes wondered if her whole life was just a dream. She'd been living with John in the past for over two years and it still felt unreal.

As Maggie drove their Mini Cooper over to Paul's, she let her mind wander into a future filled with their families taking trips to Scotland together, to singalongs in front of campfires in Scotland, children playing together, of a life happy and full.

Suddenly Maggie was brought up short. Linda's cancer. She had to be told. That happy future simply had to come true. Maggie knew that it could – warning the Beatles back in 1964 had apparently worked. But still, things were different now that Maggie had interfered by time traveling a second time, and there would have to be some serious conversations, full of things that Linda might not believe.

Maggie had to face the fact that saving Linda's life could very well cost her that closeness she cherished so much. After all, Linda might not believe her or think her merely insane. She'd been lucky with the Beatles and with Brian, but she knew not everyone would be so open-minded. It seemed unfair that on Doctor Who, the Doctor always had such an easy time of it. He would glibly explain that he was an alien with a time traveling police box from the 1960s that was bigger on the inside, and no one ever thought him insane. Maggie's problem was that she hadn't required a police box. Her "proof" was not nearly as compelling. On the other hand, she still had the iPod. She kept it in her purse at all times, even though the battery had worn out long ago. She didn't want anyone else finding it and it was also her token of where she'd come from. After the first time she'd taken it out and NOT snapped back to her own time like Christopher Reeve in _Somewhere__in__Time,_ she'd found it a comforting reminder of a place that once was home. A place she was traveling steadily towards, even if she was taking the long way.

Despite the late hour, there were still a few girls at Paul's gate. Predictably, they were not fans of Linda. Linda never seemed to be visibly upset by the rough treatment she'd gotten by the gate birds – she played it cool like she always did, especially to Paul. Never acting threatened by other women, her cool confidence was one of the things that had first snagged Paul's attention, and then secured it as time went on. But Maggie knew better, especially when Linda had once broken down at her house when she confessed that a few of the fans had gotten in the house and stolen some of her things.

Maggie had comforted her, and then encouraged her to lock up the house and get an alarm system. Between John being shot and George being stabbed, Maggie had never understood why the most famous men in England, if not the world, were often so unguarded.

Maggie and John's car was the first to pull into the drive at Paul's house. Maggie pulled up to the gate and as she waited for it to open, the few girls ran up to the car. She rolled down her window and told John to grab a few Beatle pins from the stash she kept hidden in the car.

"Hi, girls!"

"Hi, Maggie. HI, JOHN," they said in unison, peering into the car.

"Hello, lovely night, isn't it?" John replied.

"Can we snap a picture?" one of the regulars, Lizzie asked.

"Sure!" John leaned over and put his chin on Maggie's shoulder and Lizzie snapped her camera, the flash momentarily blinding her in the darkness.

"One more!" Lizzie said, quickly taking a second shot.

"All right, but I want a print if it comes out nicely." Maggie said smiling at her.

"Okay!"

"Here are a few pins." Maggie handed them to the gatebirds. "And do us a favor - be nice to Linda, tonight, okay?"

Maggie heard a few half-hearted yeses as she drove on through the gate. Maggie may not have been well-loved by the fans who still saw her as stealing John from them, but bribery and general friendliness helped a great deal. She tried to keep pins and stickers in her purse, and occasionally, when there was a new single, she'd bring a box out and hand them to the fans. Not that the Beatles needed any grassroots promotion, but Maggie figured it couldn't hurt to reward the most diehard.

In her rearview mirror, she saw Paul pulling up to the gate. He, too, greeted the fans through his car window, pausing long enough for them to snap a photo of him. Finally they were all through and the gate was safely closed behind them.

"I don't know how you do it," Linda said, as they walked to the house.

"Who, me, or the boys?" Maggie replied.

"Either. Both."

"It's not always easy," John said. "I don't have as much patience as Paul does, or even Miss Margaret."

"I have to do it," Maggie said. "It's not easy being a Beatle, but it's worse being a Beatle's girl. Pattie warned me about it when John and I got together. You're a threat to their fantasy of being with a Beatle themselves. And Linda, we got the last two single ones, so it's way worse for us. They also hate me because I apparently slept my way into being in charge of Apple. The only thing that works is killing them with kindness. I give them free stuff whenever I can. I sometimes worry that it's like feeding wild animals and it's just going to encourage more of them to surround me, but so far it's really worked."

"They don't hate you anymore?"

"Oh, I'm sure they still hate me." Maggie laughed. "But not to my face. If they're not nice, they don't get the good stuff."

"And by good stuff you mean?"

"Actual real, live Beatles! Sometimes, if they're nice and are from out of town, I'll make sure one of the boys goes out to say hello."

"She's like our pimp." John had a lecherous grin on his face.

"That's right." Paul nodded. "She makes us hug and kiss strange girls."

"Hey, I just promise hellos and autographs, what you do after that has nothing to do with me!" Maggie laughed.

"It's a hard life," Paul assured his wife, as he followed her into the kitchen. "Tea, or something stronger?"

"Just herbal tea for Linda and I, no caffeine and definitely no alcohol, for either of us for a while. Hmm, I think green tea isn't supposed to be good either." Maggie wracked her brains to try to remember what little she could about 21st century prenatal care.

"Why's that?" asked Paul, putting on a kettle for tea.

"Oh my God, you don't know yet!" Linda clapped her hands excitedly "They're going to have a baby too!" Her hands covered her mouth in dismay. "Oh no, I'm sorry, I should have let you say it."

"It's fine." Maggie smiled at her reassuringly.

"Congratulations, luv!" Paul gave her a big hug and a kiss on the cheek before turning to John.

"What, no kiss for me?" John batted his eyes at Paul.

"Oh, go give your husband a kiss." Maggie pushed Paul toward John.

John grinned as Paul toppled into his arms, nearly sending him off balance. "Everyone gets excited when they meet Beatle John. I guess our Paulie here is no exception."

Paul gave John a big eyeroll and then a big hug. "Congratulations, mate!" He turned to Maggie. "Now what's this about no alcohol or, what, caffeine?"

"It's not good for the baby. Oh, and neither is smoking. Or second-hand smoke. So no smoking around either of us!"

"Wow, the future is really hard on pregnant women," Paul said.

"Yep, but the babies are healthier."

Linda looked back and forth at Paul and Maggie. "What are you talking about? And Maggie, where did you hear all this stuff about smoking and alcohol?"

Paul looked at Maggie and she nodded at him. Clearly they'd come to their separate conclusions that Linda needed to be let in on a few things. "It's kind of a long story, Linda. But I think it's one you need to hear." Maggie said, feeling nervous butterflies in her stomach.

"Okay, but you're all acting really strange."

"It's only going to get stranger," John said. "Come on, luv, let's go sit in the living room. Paul will bring the tea in when it's ready."

"Don't start without me," Paul called from the kitchen. "And John, pour me something stronger while you're waiting."

"I'm already on it." John guided Linda to the couch and then turned to Maggie. "It's just like Paul, isn't it? He's the one who thought you were a nutter, and now it's like he's the time traveler."

"Time traveler…?" Linda looked from John to Maggie in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Did you say time traveler?" Paul said as he raced in with the tea tray. "I told you not to start without me."

"Paul, what's going on?" Linda demanded.

"Let Maggie start, it's her story," John said. He sat down and looked at Maggie expectantly.

Maggie's mind raced as she tried to decide where to begin.

"Lin, the story of when John and I first met didn't happen exactly the way you think it did."

"You were a tourist at EMI, got sick, met John…" Linda recited.

"Well, yes, all that is true. We just left out the part about how I got to EMI and why I was sick. I know you're going to find this hard to believe, but what I'm about to tell you is the truth. And the only other people that know it are George and Ringo."

"And Brian," John chimed in. "But he's gone now, so it's only the four of us."

"But it has something to do with time traveling?"

"You gave it away, you stupid git," Paul smacked John's arm. "Now the story's got no climax." John slapped back at Paul, and Paul flicked his ear.

"BOYS!" Maggie glared at the pair of them. "Now you're both ruining the dramatic impact! Shut up and sit quietly!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Paul drawled.

Linda was still looking bewildered and the boys' antics were not helping matters.

"Both of you! Out! Go hang out in the music room and we'll come get you when you're needed." Maggie sent them packing with their rum and cokes, leaving the girls to their tea.

"I'm sorry, Linda. This was not supposed to go like this. Let me start over." Maggie took a sip of tea to fortify her. "I did go on a tour of EMI. I was an American tourist in London, and I was on my own. I'd just finished my PhD and I was taking a much-needed vacation.

"You have a PhD? In what?" Linda eyed her friend like she was looking at a stranger.

"Astrophysics," Maggie said awkwardly. Linda's jaw dropped, and Maggie rushed on with the story before the conversation took yet another detour. "Anyway, I got separated from the tour group, and as I was trying to find them, I saw this photo of John that I'd never seen before. Here's where it gets a little silly. There was this movie called "Somewhere in Time" – you can watch it when it comes out in 1979 - about a man who fell in love with the photo of a woman. He time traveled by focusing on the photo. Well, I can't say I was really in love with John, but you're a Beatle fan, and you were a John fan like me. With the plot of that movie in my head, you can see how one thing led to another." Maggie blushed and took another sip of tea. She was afraid to look up and see what the expression on Linda's face might be after that confession, so she kept her gaze on the teacup. "I actually stared at John's photo until I got dizzy. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, the real John was standing in front of me. Somehow I'd managed to time travel to 1964. The boys were in the studio, recording songs for "Beatles for Sale." That day they worked on "What You're Doing," "Every Little Thing," and "I Don't Want to Spoil the Party." I'll never forget it, no matter how many times I watch them in the studio." Maggie smiled at the memory, and then realized Linda was sitting next to her, thinking God-knows-what.

There was only a brief silence. "What happened next? You once told me that you kissed John at a party in 1964."

Maggie looked up and saw only curiosity on Linda's face. "Wait, so you believe me?"

"Let me hear the rest and then I'll decide," she said, a slight, tense smile on her face.

"Okay. Well, John believed me when I said I'd come from the future, because he saw me pop out of thin air. The others didn't though, until I played a Beatles song for them on guitar that at that point was only in Paul's head. And, well, since John believed me, the others quickly followed his lead. Except Paul, who still wasn't sure if he believed me or not. He did, however, dislike me pretty much on sight."

"Really? You seem like such good friends now."

"Oh, believe me, that took a very long time. And it was tangled up in jealousy issues."

"Paul was jealous of you and John?"

"Yes, but not in the way you'd think. John was paying attention to me, not him, and that caused… well, they have kind of a complex dynamic, as you well know. Anyway, that night, the boys were going to a party, supposedly for work, but you know how those things go. John invited me to it, and we spent nearly the whole night talking. I couldn't believe it – all these women, and he ignored every single one of them to talk to me."

"Just talking, eh?" Linda couldn't help cracking a smile.

Maggie blushed again. "Talking led to dancing, which led to kissing. John wanted more… Who am I kidding? We both did. But I just couldn't sleep with a married man. I definitely couldn't do that to Cyn, especially in light of what I knew about her."

"What did you know?"

"I've read more books about the Beatles than I can count, Linda. Can you believe they are still popular in the future?"

"Actually, I think I can. But how far in the future are we talking?"

"The 21st century!" Maggie proclaimed dramatically.

Linda gaped at Maggie, who had the grace to look sheepish. "Okay, I came from the very start of the 21st century. 2006."

"2006? Almost forty years from now?"

"Yep."

"The Beatles are still together?"

"That's the thing, Linda. They're not. Or, they weren't. For so many terrible reasons. When I realized I had traveled back in time I knew that I had the opportunity to save them. To change the future, hopefully for the better. And I did."

"You did?"

"Yes. I warned them, and then Paul suggested I go back home the way I came, and since I had no good reason to stay and had a life back in 2006, I did. And when I got back to my hotel room, I looked everyone up and you were all fine, all except John."

"What happened to John? And when you say 'you'…?"

Maggie sidestepped Linda's second question to focus on what she'd asked about John. "John was murdered in 1980 by a crazed fan with a gun."

"What?" Linda gasped. "You can't be serious."

"I am serious. He was killed the year I was born, actually, so I've never known a world where he was alive and making music."

"What did the rest of the Beatles do?"

"After was killed?" Maggie wasn't sure how much she wanted to spill about the Beatles break-up. "Well, the group wasn't recording together by then – they were focused on solo projects and the like. Suffice it to say, they didn't make another album together as the Beatles. Well, until the Anthologies, but that's a whole other story."

"That's horrible."

"You have no idea. There were other complicating factors in the band too, even before John…died."

"Like what?"

"For thing, George was completely disregarded, even when he started writing beautiful songs that were worthy of A-sides… and John met Yoko. It wasn't good for the band. In my opinion, it wasn't good for anyone."

"Yoko? So that's why you were so upset about her."

"Yup, that's why. Yoko was John's second wife. He dumped Cynthia in a brutal, public way, and married Yoko. Yoko caused a lot of friction in the group, leading generations of future Beatles fans to argue about her impact on the band." Maggie was careful not to use the word "break-up".

"I suppose if Paul was jealous of you when you first met, then he really didn't like Yoko either."

"No, he really did not like Yoko. She pretty much stole John away from him. But by then he also had you."

"Me?" Linda said wonderingly. "You mean…so that's…that's why you were pushing Paul and I to stay together?"

"Yes, because I knew that you were made for each other." Maggie teared up a bit despite herself as she said this. Linda reached out and grabbed Maggie's hand and she knew that Linda believed her.

"You know our future then? Will Paul and I be happy? Will we stay together?"

"Spoilers," Maggie smiled at her. "But yes, you will have a long and happy marriage." Here she paused, and took a deep breath before continuing. "Lin, I need to tell you some…"

"But what about you and John?" Linda interrupted her and Maggie was glad for the reprieve. "You said, you went back to 2006 and found out he still died. How did you end up back here?"

"Right. Well, I'd warned him to wear a bulletproof vest, and told him the details of what would happen, so he could be prepared. But Yoko convinced him that I was fictional and he listened to her, and he died anyway." The thought of this was still hard for Maggie, and in combination with the pregnancy hormones, it caused her tears to spill over.

She sniffled as she continued. "As soon as I found out, I raced back to EMI, but it was closed for the night. The next day, I packed a bag, and set out to try again. At that point, nothing could have kept me away from John. And it worked, thank God, but instead of 1964, I landed in 1966. Amazingly, John still remembered me." Maggie added shyly, "And in fact, he'd apparently never gotten over me, and had written me all these songs. What a shock to a Beatle fan to find out that the songs you'd listened to your entire life had a much different meaning than you'd thought!"

"I can imagine!"

"And furthermore, his wife had given up on him ever being a properly devoted husband and had left him for someone else. When I showed up again, he was single. He asked me to stay, so I did."

"Just like that?"

"Well, no, not really. We had a big fight when I realized how much I didn't fit into his world. It was stupid really. I tried to go back to the future, and he followed me. We stayed in 2006 for a while, but he was miserable in my life. When I realized all the damage I'd done to the Beatles and to the music world in general, I couldn't let him stay. But there was no way I was leaving him again. Other than my job, I didn't have much holding me in 2006, so I decided I'd be up for the challenge of making my own way in 1966. It wasn't so easy to get back to this time, but we figured a way, and here we've stayed. He proposed almost immediately, and of course I accepted."

"And when we met, you were the mysterious American fiancé." Linda smiled. "Did you know I'd be at that show?"

"I did," Maggie admitted. "But it was a complete coincidence that my seat was next to yours. I couldn't believe it when I realized who you were."

"You tried to set me up with Paul that very night!"

"I did, didn't I?" Maggie grinned while trying to remember what else she'd said to Linda at the concert. Had she mentioned something about Linda learning the keyboard?

"Yes, but he had a girlfriend, so I didn't take you seriously."

"I guess things have a way of working out on their own," Maggie said.

"On their own? You literally pushed me into his arms at that party!"

"Just say 'thank you'." Maggie's grin widened. "So, do you believe me? I know it's crazy."

Linda was quiet a moment, gathering her thoughts. Then she said seriously, "I think I do believe you, Maggie. When I go back and add up the pieces, a lot of things make sense now. Your encouraging me with Paul, why you were so upset about John spending time with Yoko…and why you were so impressed by The Doors! Or maybe it's just really late and I'll believe anything at this hour."

"I do have some tangible proof of what I'm saying." Maggie opened her bag. She'd hoped Linda would believe her without seeing the few things she still had from 2006, so she'd saved them for last. "When I went back the second time, I brought a few things with me. Here's my driver's license and credit cards, and here's my iPod."

"iPod?" Linda held the small brick-shaped object in her hand.

"It plays music. The batteries are dead so it doesn't work anymore." Maggie said apologetically, as Linda touched the wheel on its front. "It's futuristic looking though, right?"

"You sure Magic Alex didn't make it for you?" At Maggie's horrified look Linda quickly raised a quelling hand. "I'm only joking! And I've certainly never seen anything like it. It plays music? How?"

Maggie was debating how to answer that question when Paul stuck his head in the room. "Can we come back in now?"

"Are you two going to behave yourselves?" she asked sternly.

"How far did you get?" John asked, wandering into the room. "Did you get to the bad part yet?"

"Bad part?" Linda hesitantly said. "About you…"

"No, luv," John said gently.

Linda looked at Maggie. "There are more bad things to tell me about?"

Paul sat down next to Linda and took her hand. Linda took one look at Paul's solemn face and felt a sudden surge of panic. "What is it, Maggie? What aren't you telling me? You said Paul and I would have a long and happy marriage…"

"And you will, Lin. You will. But I want it to be even longer." Linda looked frightened, so Maggie tried to reassure her. "The good news is that you are going to be okay."

"What's the bad news? Just tell me."

Maggie had a hard time getting the words out. "In my original timeline, you died of breast cancer."

"That's what killed Paul's mother." Linda said. Maggie loved that Linda's first thoughts were for Paul and not herself. Maggie had seen the damage losing Linda had done to Paul, and was grateful that Linda hadn't seen it for herself.

Paul nodded and rested his forehead on her shoulder for a moment before looking back at her. "But you won't die. Maggie warned me in 1964, and when she came back in 1966, she'd seen an altered future where you lived, because you'd been warned."

"You knew the whole time?" Linda turned back to Maggie. "When we were at Shea Stadium you knew? And you didn't tell me?"

"I'm sorry Lin. I couldn't tell Paul who he was going to marry, but he knew that whoever it was would be the one who needed to be warned. I knew that you would be okay as long as we told you soon after that. Honestly, Linda, you have lots of time. You won't be sick tomorrow. But just make sure you get yourself checked by a doctor frequently, and that way we'll catch it in time. And in the meantime, we can dump lots of money into breast cancer research and maybe help improve the diagnostic tools and treatment."

"And you know for a fact that there was a future where I did catch it in time?"

"Yes."

"We were all there when she told us, luv," John said. Linda looked at him, still needing reassurance. "You'll be fine, we will make sure of that."

"Brian," Linda said, turning back to Maggie. "You knew he was going to die too, didn't you."

"Yes, and that I couldn't stop, because his life was in his own hands and he wouldn't listen." Maggie had come to accept this now. Mostly.

"We tried," said John.

"And I still feel guilty for failing to save him." Tears began filling Maggie's eyes again. "But we will save you. Just believe me, and what I say, and we will save you. I promise." Maggie reached out a hand to Linda, and she grabbed it and held it, as if it were a lifeline. Linda searched Maggie's face and must have seen what she needed to see, because she gave Maggie a weak smile. Needing to change the subject to something less scary and intense, Linda put her hand on her stomach. "Can you tell me if this baby's a girl or a boy?"

"You know, I'm not really sure." Maggie pursed her lips, thinking. "You and Paul are a little ahead of schedule. I guess I pushed too hard."

"Or maybe some things we're not meant to know," Paul said.

"Actually, in my time, you could do an ultrasound three months in and find out the gender of the baby. They could even do 3-D imaging."

"I stand corrected! Frankly, I think being prepared for the future is the way to go. Don't you think, Lin?" Linda looked over at John, who seemed unworried about the possibility of a future date with a gunman, and over at Maggie, who was looking at back her anxiously.

"Yes, I do." Linda's face blossomed into her characteristic beautiful smile. "And oh, what a future!"

* * *

>AN

This chapter was written a long time ago - and it's just coincidence that it's being posted during Breast Cancer Awareness month. It is also coincidence that we have just recently both had breast cancer affect our lives. In fact, one in eight women will have it in their lifetime. Breast cancer is, however, very treatable if you catch it early. And we speak from experience on this one. So ladies, please do self-exams and see doctors and have mammograms if you are of the age to have them. It's so important, as is supporting breast cancer research. Things have really come a long way in even the last five years in both detection and treatment. We hope they will continue to get better and better.

Thanks for reading!

* * *

><p> <p>


	6. Chapter Six

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<br>**

"Peter, do you have a minute? I have a band I want you to listen to." Maggie had hovered nervously by the door of Peter Asher's office before she had worked up the courage to knock. She had set some wheels in motion and she wasn't entirely confident about the outcome. She'd been brewing this idea for a while and with the impending baby, now seemed like the time to put her plan into action. Peter, Jane's brother, was the head of A&R at Apple and he was the one that worked to develop new talent, often at the request of one of the Beatles.

"Sure, Maggie, come on in." Peter rose and offered her a seat. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, thanks." Before she lost her nerve, she thrust a tape at Peter. Listen to this. I want to know what you think."

"Who is it?"

"Just listen."

Peter took the spool and loaded it on his reel-to-reel. Maggie watched him as he listened, head bowed, to the band singing about the days that were gone, and about being free from the past. The song was catchy, almost Beatle-esque in a way the Beatles weren't any longer.

"I like it. If you want to bring them in, I think we could do something with this song. Who are they again?"

"That's the problem." Maggie reached out and nudged the door closed. "If I tell you, will you promise to not say anything about this to anyone yet? I need to have a talk with John first. Before I did, though, I wanted to see if you thought they were any good. I think they are, but I wanted a… oh, I don't know, a blind opinion."

Peter eyed her, not sure where she was going with this conversation.

Maggie sighed. "It's Pete Best's band."

"Oh." Peter was silent. He, along with every Beatle fan in the world, knew that Pete Best had been unceremoniously bounced from the Beatles, replaced with Ringo, and that none of them had ever spoken to Pete again. This had never sat right with Maggie and since she'd already meddled in their lives, and had seemed to have successfully fixed John's relationship with his son, Julian, she couldn't resist trying to fix things with Pete too.

She'd heard a rumor that Pete and his band were playing a few clubs in London and had been unable to resist sneaking out to see them. She'd liked what she had heard and after the second gig, she'd picked up the courage to say hello to Pete. He'd been polite but surprised by her presence. Clearly if anyone knew about the Beatles' habit of dropping friendships when they were no longer needed, it was him. They'd had a pint (well, he'd had one and Maggie had just had tea) and she'd managed to pull some stories about the old days in Hamburg out of him. Before they'd left, she'd given him her card and asked him to send her a demo tape. She couldn't make promises, but she genuinely liked the music his band was putting out and as far as she was concerned, Pete deserved a second chance at a career in music. How John was going to feel was something entirely different.

But, having Peter Asher's unbiased opinion was something. It made Maggie feel like pursuing this was right. That there was more to this than pity on a discarded, old bandmate. That his band's music was indeed worthy of being heard.

Since Pete wasn't the singer, Maggie thought the next step might be to play his bands' demo for John and see what he thought. Then she'd drop the surprise on him. What could go wrong with that plan?

John sat cross-legged on the floor of the music room, listening intently. "The solo is a bit 'And Your Bird Can Sing', isn't it?"

"That's not a bad thing," Maggie protested. "It's an homage."

"It is, isn't it? I like it. It's catchy though there's something a bit sad in there that I can't put my finger on."

"I'm glad you like it. I did too and I want Apple to work with them on an album." Maggie turned the tape reel off and sat down next to John.

"That's fine with me. But why are you asking me about this – isn't this more Peter's thing? Or did you want me to work with them?"

"Not exactly. Unless you want to. But you may not after you hear whose song this is."

"Who?" John looked over at her suspiciously. "What are you up to, Miss Margaret?"

Maggie put her head in her hands. "It's Pete Best's band." She looked up at him hopefully.

"What?" John's voice was quiet and had a slightly dangerous edge to it.

"Oh John, it's not like I went to Liverpool to scout them or anything. They were playing in London and I was curious. I wanted to see what kind of music he was playing. And I liked their music right away. Admit it, you liked the song too. Peter Asher did as well. I think it has real promise. And... even though Pete will never be a Beatle again, doesn't he deserve another chance at a music career?"

"How is this supposed to work, luv? Am I to go begging his pardon? Or just fling some money down on him from on high and continue to ignore his existence? Actually, I've ignored his existence for some time with great success. No reason to stop now, is there?"

"How about doing what's right by someone who was once one of your best friends?"

"How?"

"I'm telling you how. Let him put out an album on the Apple label."

"Will he even want to do this? He probably hates me."

"He's had time to get over it. I think he just wants to move on. Didn't you listen to the lyrics of the song? He's writing about you, John. It's about days that are gone, and how long you have to carry things around."

"I just can't do this." Abruptly John got up and left. Maggie took it as a good sign that he didn't slam the door behind him. The Beatles all hated confrontation, but more than that, they also hated being reminded of their own bad behavior. Anything uncomfortable was to be avoided and forgotten at all costs.

Pete had been John's friend more than he had been the others', but they'd all shared a great deal in the old days, and Maggie couldn't believe that that was so easily discarded. Stuffed away and carefully not thought about maybe. But Maggie was making it so John couldn't ignore it anymore. It was going to cost John a lot to unbend, but she believed that he would, and that Pete would get his album, and maybe even an apology.

John finally went to bed at 4am and then spent an hour tossing and turning before giving up on sleep as a lost cause. That damned song was stuck in his head and it played over and over. _How__long__is__forever?_ it asked plaintively.

Cursing, to himself, John got up and grabbed his bathrobe. He padded barefoot into the music room and sat on the piano bench. Running his fingers over the keys, he played an arpeggiated melody that Maggie liked. He knew it would be a real song someday, but he wasn't sure what quite yet. He really should sit down and work it out, but somehow he felt with this one that inspiration would strike when it was good and ready and all of a sudden he would just know. It seemed tonight was not that time.

John sighed and went over to the tape reel, rewound it and played Pete's song over again from the beginning.

How long _was_ forever, he wondered. It seemed like forever ago that he had been young and wild, carousing around Hamburg with his mates. Not only with Paul and George and Pete, but with Stu. He was gone forever too. John sighed and stopped the tape. John rummaged through one of his drawers until he found the battered folder that was full of photographic prints. Black and white, they showed urban decay and five young men who managed to look both cocky and yet existentially aware of their surroundings. These pictures, that time – it was special. And it was gone.

John picked up the phone extension in the music room and dialed.

A sleepy female voice answered after 6 rings. "Hallo? Wer ist das?"

"Hello, Astrid. It's me, John. I'm sorry if I woke you."

"John, mein Lieber. Is everything okay?"

"Yes. Sorry. I just...I was just reminded of Hamburg and the old days and suddenly I missed Stu very much and I needed to hear your voice."

Astrid heard the strain in his voice and replied softly, "I understand. I miss him very much too and it is always good to hear the voice of an old friend."

"How are things with you?"

"They're fine, John. How are the Boys?"

"They're fine too. Oh, Paul's wife is expecting."

"Congratulations to him and please give my love to both him and Linda. And the others too, please."

"I will. Actually..." John paused, suddenly shy. "Actually, Maggie is expecting too. She's due in January."

"Mein Lieber, congratulations to you as well. I'm so happy for you and I know Stuart would be too."

"Thank you." They were both silent for a minute. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes."

John wanted to ask Astrid if he should apologize to Pete, for the sake of the time they had shared together, but his pride kept him from being able to open up to her. "Those were good times, weren't they?"

"The best, John."

"You should come and visit. We'd all love to see you."

"The last thing your wife would want is a blonde German woman from your past showing up at your doorstep," she laughed.

"Maggie's not like that. Not the jealous type at all. Actually, she'd probably be thrilled to meet you," John said a bit glumly. Knowing Maggie she'd be all too happy to meet someone who was such a famous part of Beatles history. "You should come."

"All right, John. We'll visit. Soon."

"Good." He was silent again. "I'll let you get back to sleep."

"All right. Take care, John. Tschüss."

"Tschüss, Astrid." He gently hung up the phone, and then put his head in his hands, a bit overcome with emotion. Finally he got up and rifled through the folder again and pulled out the photo of the five of them that was taken so long ago at a German fairground. Maybe he should frame it. Embrace his past instead of forgetting.

He scrawled the word "Ok" on a piece of paper and left it with the photo and the demo tape on Maggie's briefcase. She would find it in the morning.

* * *

><p>AN

We'll confess that Pete's song in our story is actually much more modern - it's the Pete Best Band's "Gone", which is really great. If you google "Pete Best Band Gone Youtube", you can listen to it!


	7. Chapter Seven

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<br>**

"More bad news," Maggie groaned and put down the paper.

"What, about Vietnam?" John asked as he set a teacup in front of his wife. "Careful, luv, it's hot."

"Thanks," she said, shifting the paper away from the steaming cup. "No. Well, yes, it's often bad news there. But I was talking about the editorial about how I should step down from Apple, now that I'm pregnant."

"Let me see."

Maggie handed the paper to John. "You'll notice the editorial is on page 2, while the war is buried somewhat deeper in."

"Come on, luv, you know the Beatle are bigger than Jesus Christ. They're certainly bigger than a non-war." John said, winking at her. He scanned the article and then tossed it down. "It's rubbish. It's no one's business but ours, is it?"

Maggie smiled at him. "What do you think?"

"About what?" John looked at her over his glasses.

"Should I step down?"

"I can't imagine such a thing."

"Neither can I," she sighed rubbing her belly. She was just past three months pregnant and showing. They'd been forced to make an announcement since there would very soon be no hiding her bump anymore. When Maggie had made no move to quietly abdicate her position at Apple to someone else, presumably a man, the press had sent a firestorm of condemnation against her. She didn't want to step down. Women in her time worked right up until they gave birth. And Maggie loved everything about working at Apple. It was a dream job, even when there were problems, which there often were. It took Maggie's constant vigilance to keep the spending of money down while still fostering the fun atmosphere that made Apple what it was.

"Then why ask me?"

"Because I value your opinion."

"Even if you think my opinion is daft?"

"Even then."

John pulled Maggie over and onto his knee. "No, I'm too heavy, I'll crush you!" she protested. "I'm huge."

"Nonsense. I know for a fact the lasses have always admired my firm thighs. You might have a problem if I had bird legs like Paul…" Maggie laughed at that despite herself. "Now, you were wanting to know what I thought?" Maggie nodded.

"You are Apple for me now. I can't imagine anyone else running it. We all trust you and you've made good decisions. I know it's not usual for a woman to work, let alone work once she's in the family way. But then again, when has Apple ever been about convention? It's funny," he mused. "I used to feel much differently about the idea of my wife working, but now that it's you, I can't imagine it otherwise. I can't explain it." John was quiet a moment, and Maggie watched him try to form his thoughts into words. "Maybe part of it is that I still feel guilty for taking you from your brilliant NASA career."

"John…" Maggie tried to reassure him that she regretted nothing.

"No, no, it's true, isn't it? You made a hard choice. And I will never forget that you picked me. I love you for it. And so maybe I feel that it's only fair that you be allowed to find career fulfillment here. I know that Beatles aren't the same as astrophysics, but I think you'll agree we are nearly as challenging…"

Maggie wrapped her arms around his neck. "You are definitely as challenging. But in the best possible way. I'm sure your son will feel the same way."

"Or daughter," John said, putting a hand on her stomach.

"Ugh, I can't believe we have to wait 'til he or she is born to find out. If only we could visit my time and get a sonogram done!" Maggie was sure, somehow, that it was a boy. She had this sense that John was destined to have two sons. They'd so far managed to avoid other predestined events, like John and Yoko becoming a couple – but she still felt like time was going to continue trying to reassert itself, to correct itself to the proper course of things. This thought scared her when she thought of the future and of John's killer being out there on the loose – but she shoved that thought off. They already had contingency plans in that regard. She didn't want to think about them now, though.

"Have you thought of whether you would like some time off though? After the baby comes?" John asked her.

"Well, yes. I figured I would play it by ear. I'll probably have Peter Brown and Peter Asher take over some of my duties temporarily. Neil does most of the day-to-day stuff as it is, and he'll be fine. I'll be kept up-to-date on what I need to know, and I'll just go in with the baby when I'm needed for meetings. After a few months, I'll see if I'm up to going back full time. I've already started making plans for a day care center, which I was planning on discussing with the board soon. Then I'll have little Ringo at work with me all day, which will be convenient for when he needs to be fed." She patted her stomach.

"Little Ringo, eh?"

"After his father of course," she said, smiling demurely.

"And you're sure it's Ringo, and not Paul?" John laughed.

"Pretty sure. I mean, it is hard to tell you mop-tops apart…" Maggie ruffled John's hair affectionately. It was still pretty shaggy and Beatle-esque as John had given up on growing his hair out after India.

"Dirty Maggie Mae," John said. "Won't the gate birds be jealous that you've apparently had all of us?"

"Very." And she knew it was true – even if she'd only been with John, Maggie knew her access to all four of them made her a huge target for the fans. The joke also made her wince slightly – while she had not actually slept with George, there was still a little guilt that she very nearly could have. "Well, my scandalous and pregnant self is late for work, so I'd better be off. What do you have planned for today?"

"We'll be at the studio this afternoon working on "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" – more of Paul's "granny" shit, you know?

Maggie winced a little bit. "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" was a fun song, but the band had really fought over it, Paul driving them all crazy with his incessant perfectionism. Maggie wasn't really sure what could be done to avoid all that, though.

"What I really want to do is revisit "Revolution," John continued.

"Revolution's not done?"

"I don't know – it doesn't feel done. Needs some piano or something. Or maybe it's just that I can't decide between the slow or the fast version. And I'm still not sure exactly the statement I want to make with it either. Should you count me out or in?"

"It's your call. I like that the lyrics are subversively non-revolutionary though."

"Thanks, luv." John rummaged through one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out a notepad and a pen. He sat back down with them and started scratching lyrics down on the paper.

Maggie gathered up her things and got ready to head out the door. "You'll figure it out, I'm sure. Don't forget, we're meeting everyone tonight for the baby shower." Since Maggie and Linda were due around the same time, the party was to be for both of them. Neither of them wanted a big fuss, so it was just going to be Beatles and Beatle wives.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, right. See you then," he mumbled.

Maggie shook her head and kissed him goodbye.

Hours later she found herself sitting alone in the private back room of a restaurant the Beatles frequented and wishing that cell phones existed.

Everyone was due to arrive at 6pm, and Maggie knew that if things were flowing in the studio, the Boys might be delayed. But where was everyone else? Maggie sighed when she considered things like traffic, the fans, and car troubles. God knew what else could have come up. And if any of her friends had run into problems in transit, they'd have to no way to contact her unless they could get to a pay phone or to EMI or Apple.

Maggie glumly watched the minutes tick by. At 6:10, when the waiter refilled her water glass, she asked if anyone had called the restaurant. The answer was no.

At 6:15, the waiter came back saying that Mrs. Harrison had just called, and handed her the message. The note said that Pattie was sorry but couldn't make it. Her car wouldn't start and she would have called sooner but she couldn't remember where she'd written down the number to the restaurant. George was already in London, and Pattie was stuck out of town at Friar Park, so there'd be no way she could catch a ride unless someone were to drive all the way out there for her, and by the time that happened, she'd be too late. Maggie imagined the taker of the message had probably developed writer's cramp by the time he'd written all that down.

At 6:20, the waiter handed her a second note, from a Mrs. McCartney. Linda had said that she'd been on her way out the door with Heather, when Heather had suddenly gotten sick. So now Heather was in bed, and Linda had to stay and look after her and only just now had gotten the chance to phone and give her regrets.

At 6:25, the waiter brought her a third note and a basket of bread. Paul had called to say that he was sorry but they were caught up in the studio with something really important and they would be there when they could.

At 6:30, Maggie was given a fourth note from George that said that Paul was being an ass and insisting on recording over a perfectly good bass line over and over again. George would come as soon as he could, but he had to stick around at the studio long enough to ensure that his own work remain unmolested.

At 6:35, the fifth note, from John this time, said that Paul was being an ass and was trying to record over George's part and that Paul and George were now fighting. John thought it might go on for a while and was afraid to leave in case it actually came to blows. Also, could Maggie suggest how the beginning of "Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da" might go before Paul drove them all crazy?

At 6:40, the sixth note said that Ringo had left to go pick up Maureen to bring her to the restaurant, as she'd been waiting for him to get home for a ride over. He'd been unavoidable delayed when he'd need to pry both John and George off of Paul.

At 6:45, Maureen walked into the back room of the restaurant.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, Ritchie didn't come home when he was supposed to and I had to call a cab…" Maureen paused when she realized the room was empty of all but Maggie and a pile of paper slips. "Where is everybody?"

Maggie handed Mo the stack of notes, unsure whether to laugh or cry.

Maureen deposited two wrapped packages onto the table, and taking the notes, eased herself down into a chair to read them. She looked up when she was done. "I guess it's just you and me then, eh?"

"Looks that way."

The two of them sat in awkward silence until the waiter came to offer Maureen a drink and to ask if either of them wanted something to eat. The waiter assured them that even if the rest of their party wasn't coming, that they would be left undisturbed. Maggie supposed that was due to the fact that they were Beatle wives. The position had some perks. No restaurant that had Beatles or Beatle family as patrons would kick up an embarrassing fuss about taking up a large room for only two people.

Maggie looked over at Maureen. "Shall we order something?"

"We may as well, it's nearly 7 o'clock, and I have a sitter for the evening."

Maggie and Maureen gave the waiter their orders and then sat in silence for a few minutes, neither sure what to say.

"Do you think Ringo will come?" Maggie asked hopefully.

"I don't…" Maureen's reply was interrupted by the waiter, bringing yet another note and a glass of wine, both of which he put down in front of Mo. She read the note and then gave it to Maggie. "Looks like no," she said.

Maggie looked down at the note. Ringo had called and said he gone home to find that Maureen had already gotten herself to the restaurant. He was going to drive back in from Weybridge, but the sitter had had a family emergency and had to go home. Maureen should stay if she liked.

"Well, I guess we're it, unless Paul and George kiss and make up," Maggie said weakly.

"I can't see that. John would be jealous, wouldn't he?" Maureen took a rather large sip of her wine.

Maggie's head snapped up in surprise at the naughty joke.

"Oh, don't think the love affair between John and Paul has escaped me," she said with a smile on her face. "The way the two of them bicker and argue, you'd think _they_were the married couple. I half expect them to start snogging sometimes."

A loud laugh escaped Maggie's lips and Maureen easily joined in the giggles, which escalated until Maggie was nearly crying.

"I know what you mean." Maggie wiped tears from her eyes. "The way Paul used to guard John so jealously from me at first. It's like he was this jilted lover or something." She shook her head. "Oh, boys. At least Ringo is there to keep the band glued together."

"Don't I know it. That lot would fall apart without Richie." Mo sighed. "I wonder if they realize it at all. Sometimes it feels like they don't appreciate what he brings to the group." Maureen gave Maggie a sidelong glance, and Maggie swallowed, wondering if she was trying to hint about at something.

"I've always admired Ringo and what he's brought to the band," Maggie began, and then realizing how it sounded hurried on, "but don't worry – not in that way."

"Don't say it like that! He's the handsomest one of the lot!" Mo winked. And Maggie gave a relieved smile. She knew Maureen could be prickly and possessive about Ringo. Evidently she'd mellowed out a bit. Or it could be the relaxing effects of the laughter and wine.

There was a rather long pause, and then suddenly Mo said, "I owe you an apology. I never should have told you that John was with someone else that night when he wasn't. It wasn't right and I've felt badly about it ever since."

Maggie was quiet for a minute. What Maureen had done had been terrible – and it had nearly cost Maggie dearly. The apology was sincere though, and Maggie had always felt guilty about how she'd treated Mo. They'd never had anything in common, and had not exactly hit it off at first, making it easy for Maggie harbor a grudge against her for something Mo hadn't even done yet in this timeline, namely, sleep with George.

Mo was young, had gotten pregnant and married a Beatle at 19. Her life was so different from Maggie's. Maggie felt like she hadn't really given Maureen a fair chance. In fact, she'd provoked her at every opportunity. John had suggested a clean slate once. Maybe Maggie should extend that to Maureen too. They could both use the second chance.

Maggie looked at Maureen. "Thank you. I accept. And please accept my apology too. I don't think we got off on the right foot and I haven't been especially nice to you either. I'm really sorry about that, and I'd like to be friends."

A smile of relief washed over Maureen's face. "I'd like that." She added shyly, "Would you like to come over for tea sometime next week? I have a ton of baby things, maybe you'd like to go through them? You could take some for Linda too…"

"I'd love it! Thank you! Truthfully, I know nothing about babies. I'm going to need all the help I can get when this one comes!"

At that, Maureen relaxed and she and Maggie spent the rest of the evening chattering about babies and Beatles. Maggie wondered at how she'd managed to be so blind to this side of Maureen. Had Maureen matured, or had Maureen always been nice, and Maggie had brought the worst out in her? Was it possible that she and Mo could have been friends from the start if Maggie hadn't decided right away that she didn't like her? There were no answers, but Maggie was glad to put the unpleasantness behind them. After all, there were only three other women who knew what it was like to be married to a Beatle. Four if you counted Cynthia, which Maggie did. Cynthia had been married to her Beatle during the toughest years, between those when they'd been poor and trying to break big, to when they'd broken bigger than any band ever had or would again. Maureen had also been around since the early days, when she was a fan hanging out at the Cavern Club. If anyone could understand Maggie's love of the band it would be Maureen. And with possible rough times ahead for the band, Maggie might need all the allies she could get to keep everyone together.

* * *

><p>AN

We're glad Mo and Maggie are friends now! Hope you are too! See you next time!


	8. Chapter Eight

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

"How did it go?" Maggie asked John as he came in the front door. He'd left five hours ago and she'd been anxiously waiting for him to return.

"It went well, I think." John kissed her on the forehead and then, humming a tune under his breath, headed off to the music room.

Maggie watched him go, gaping a bit. A historic meeting of John Lennon and Pete Best, and "it went well" was all he was going to say? That would never stand.

Maggie followed John to the music room and sat next to him on the piano bench. "Oh, come on! You have to give me more than that! What did you say? What did he say?"

"None of your business, nosy!" John said, knowing that his reticence to spill more information was driving his Beatle fan of a wife crazy.

"All right, that's it, if you don't tell me, I'm going to call the press right now and tell them that Pete is back in the band and leave you to sort it all out!"

"Fine, fine, sit down. We don't want to poor Ringo thinking he's been sacked for our old drummer." John patted the seat next to him.

"He's been waiting for it, you know," Maggie said half-seriously as she sat down. "He really thinks you'll do it someday."

"Well, that's nonsense, isn't it?" said John, surprised. "I always thought it was those three."

"I read once that each of you think it's the other three and that you're the one that is the outsider."

"You and your Beatle books!"

"Well, if you all weren't such chatterboxes there wouldn't be any books or quotes, would there?"

"That is an excellent point. Now run along, I have songs to work on." John moved as if to nudge her off the bench next to him, though Maggie knew he would never dump his pregnant wife on the floor.

"No way! You have to tell me what happened with Pete!"

"All right," John sighed, giving in with good humor. "You told me he was booked to record today at EMI…"

Maggie nodded her head. She had. John had given her the okay to record Pete, and as typical with the Beatles, once John had approved the decision, the others went along without much of a fuss. Most of them hadn't been close with Pete anyway. Though he was a former bandmate of all of them, John had been the one closest with him. Maggie hoped that though they seemed ok now that all this wouldn't cause problems later.

The band hadn't explicitly expressed a wish to avoid encountering Pete, but the situation was fraught with the possibility for awkwardness. Peter Asher had carefully scheduled Pete's band for days when the Beatles wouldn't be in the studio, often over the weekend. The press had, of course, already caught wind of the fact that Pete Best had been spotted at EMI and whether they were hoping for some sort of showdown, Maggie wasn't sure. It was more likely that the band would simply ignore him, and he them. Maggie hoped for better. Maggie was sure if John called a truce, the others would fall in line.

Maggie knew asking such a thing of a man like John was big, but she hoped he would step up. She let John know the time Pete would be at EMI and when he quietly left the house at the appointed time, she knew where John was headed. What would transpire she could only guess.

She didn't really want to guess, though, she wanted to KNOW.

"I guess you took my hint then?" Maggie said, trying not to push John too much.

"Yes. Nosy." John smiled at her at that. But then sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it. "This whole thing has been weird, what with the press watching so closely to see if there's either a big confrontation or reconciliation. It's hard enough without that, isn't it?"

"I know."

"But you were right. How we…how I treated Pete wasn't right. I was young and thought I was better than everyone else or else I had to fight for what I thought I wanted, and damn whoever got hurt along the way." John's voice grew quiet. "I did a lot of things I regret back then. Pete was only one of them. You've helped me to see that, because you know. You saw the results of the things I did. To Cynthia. To Julian. And to the band, when I left to stay with you in the future for what might have been for good. Sometimes I think the thing I really do best is hurt other people."

"Oh John, that's not you. Not anymore, anyway. You changed a lot of that. You were kinder to Cynthia, you're a great father to Julian. And you knew you had to come back, so you did. And I'm proud of you for talking to Pete." She paused hoping he would resume the story of what actually happened.

"I couldn't decide whether it was better to get him alone, or in front of witnesses, in case he decided to punch me out. I snuck into the control booth, trying to be unobtrusive. It didn't take too long for someone to let him know though and the jig was up."

"It's pretty hard for Beatles to be unobtrusive," Maggie consoled him.

"I asked if everyone would clear out so Pete and I could talk. He came up and well, we talked. I apologized for being such a prick back in the day. I can't apologize for Ringo, you know. But I handled it badly. He was gracious about it. Actually, he just wanted to know why he'd been sacked. That worse, you know. That he wasn't angry about it. Just sad."

"What did you tell him?"

"That it was a combination of things. Youthful arrogance." John shrugged. "Probably all the various theories you read in your books are true to some degree. We needed a better drummer, we liked Ringo and he fit in with us better than Pete did. Even in Hamburg, Pete did his own thing a lot of the time, and the girls loved his broody charm better than we did." John looked up. "He seemed to take it okay. We shook hands and all that. It was getting kind of awkward, when Pete asked if I wanted to get a pint. And God, yes, I did. Probably should have done first. Could have used the alcohol to loosen us both up."

"Uh-huh," said Maggie, unconvinced.

"Well, it worked," John protested. We snuck out to the pub, got ourselves a private booth and started drinking. I told him that I'd talked to Astrid, and that got us going on about the old days. Two hours and four pints later, we headed back to the studio. I figured if I didn't go with him, they'd be fuming that he was wasting precious recording time, but no one's going to say that to John Lennon. I'm a Beatle, you know," he added grandiosely.

"So I hear," Maggie said solemnly.

"And so was Pete."

"He was," she agreed.

"Anyway, I'd had too many to drive home, so I stuck around while they did some recording. Added some backing vocals and said I'd come back around another time to do some guitar."

"Really?"

"Yep. It was the most fun I've had in the studio in ages."

"That's great! Wait, what?"

"It was fantastic, Maggie. No one telling me how to play. No arguing. Who argues with a Beatle? Other Beatles, that's who," John said, answering his own question. "It was a revelation. And it's gotten me thinking."

"Uh-oh."

"Maybe I should do a solo album."

"John, maybe now is not…"

"No, no, of course, not now – but when we're done with this album…"

"That's really not a good idea…"

"A break could be what we all need."

The thought of there never being an Abbey Road album was more than Maggie could take. "John Winston Lennon, you are NOT breaking up the Beatles to do a solo album! I forbid it!" she roared. And then, to her horror, she burst into tears.

End: Part 1 of 4

* * *

><p>AN

And with that, we've reached the end of Book I of Real Love! We are going to have to take a short break to finish Book II now - we promise it won't be years this time though! Thanks so much for reading and we'll see you soon!


	9. Chapter Nine

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<br>**

Maggie's intercom buzzed. "John is on line one for you."

"Thanks, Jenny," Maggie buzzed back. "Chris, do you mind if I take this?"

"By all means. Do you want me to come back?"

"No, stay, this should only be a minute." Chris O'Dell smiled back at Maggie and tucking her blond hair behind her ears, settled in her chair. Chris had succeeded in making herself useful at Apple. In fact, she'd moved on from fetching lunches for execs and subbing for Derek Taylor's secretary to becoming Peter Asher's assistant in A&R. Since Peter was out of town scouting a band, she'd been involved in some of the details surrounding the new Pete Best Band album. She still couldn't believe her luck. Here she was in a meeting with the head of Apple records, someone she had become increasingly friendly with – and said meeting was being interrupted by a call from John Lennon. Chris smiled to herself again and tried to look busy, jotting down a few things in the notebook she had open on her lap.

Maggie picked up her phone and pushed the flashing button. "Hi John, what's up?"

"Did you see the paper today?" he demanded.

"Which one?"

"I dunno. All of them! It doesn't matter. The point is they're still using pictures of us that look like they're from bleeding 1964. We're not fresh-faced lads anymore, you know," John said, a hint of Scots in his voice giving his last sentence a comic element. "We want to do a photo shoot."

"You do?" Maggie said, surprised. For men so good at playing to the camera, they hated having their pictures taken.

"Yes. One shoot. All day. And then we're done for good."

"For good?" Maggie had a wary edge to her tone. Maggie loved that John had patched things up with Pete Best, but she was afraid that by interfering to "fix" one thing, she could have broken another more important one – that is, the Beatles. John had now had a taste of recording without the others and he seemed to have liked it. Though he'd reassured Maggie after she'd gotten hysterical on him that he wasn't through with the Beatles, it still made her nervous that he was getting close.

"Oh luv, no. We're not breaking…hang on." Maggie could hear rustling on the other end and a door shutting. "We're not breaking up. I told you I was only talking about a break. We need a break. We are at each others' throats all the time over here."

"But I thought you were done with Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da?"

"Well yes, and things have calmed down a little since then. But still, something's going to give and I just don't want it to be the band."

"So you want to break up to save the band?"

"Luv, break. Not break-up."

"Promise?" Maggie knew there was a difference between a break and breaking up, but what she wanted most was to keep them together - to get them to work through their problems instead of hating each other because of them.

"Yes, luv, I promise. Now, about this photo shoot idea. We thought we'd pop up in random places so there won't be time for crowds to form. We could bring a bunch of clothes and change at each location…"

"Oh my God…" Maggie suddenly interrupted as the impact of what John was saying dawned on her.

"What?"

"The Mad Day Out! You're going to do the Mad Day Out!" Chris looked up at this, possibly because she'd never seen boss of Apple squeal like a little girl before.

"The what? Actually, that's not bad." John said.

"I didn't come up with it, I'm sorry to say."

"Ah, so this was meant to be, then," John said breezily. He'd finally started to become accustomed to parts of his future being a part of his wife's past.

"Yes! I'll set it up – maybe on Sunday?"

"Sounds good, I'll let the others know. Oh, and Paul wanted some war photographer named Don…" There was a crinkle of paper. "McCullin." Maggie heard a muffled knock at the door on John's end. "Hang on a sec." She heard voices, Liverpudlian both, but couldn't make out what they were saying.

"George wants to talk to you. We're doing some rubbish song of his today." John was clearly joking, but Maggie cringed a bit.

"Give me the phone, you wanker," Maggie heard George say to John. Then he said into the receiver, "Luv, can you come to the studio?"

"What, now? I was just about to finish up a meeting and then head home for dinner."

"Now. Yes. Please?"

The Beatles often had no understanding of schedules and commitments and responsibilities. They showed up when they wanted and did what they liked, and if they were bored, they left. They were like overgrown, mustached and bearded children.

Still, it was George and there was a note of pleading in his voice that made Maggie believe he really needed some support. She hated being in the middle, but George's songs deserved to be respected by the rest of the band. Besides, when a Beatle asked you to come to the studio, you likely did not want to miss what was going to occur.

"Will there be food? You can't make a pregnant lady go hungry." Maggie said, a smile in her voice.

"We'll send out. You can eat whatever you like. Even my biscuits."

This made Maggie laugh out loud. "Wow, George, you must really want me there if you're willing to share your biscuits."

"You're the only one allowed to touch them," he said solemnly. "See you in a bit!" George hung up the phone before Maggie had the chance to tell him to put John back on. It didn't matter though, she'd be seeing them both shortly.

"Want to come with me to the studio?" Maggie asked Chris. "We can finish our meeting in the car on the way over."

"Are you kidding?" Chris thumped her notebook on Maggie's desk and jumped out of her chair. "Let's go!"

On the way out of her office, Maggie stopped at her secretary's desk. Apple didn't always work on a normal schedule and the secretaries often stayed late. "Jenny, can you call a car service for me? We have to stop by the studio. Also, would you get ahold of Derek? Tell him we need to set up an all-day secret photo shoot for Sunday at a bunch of places around London. See if he's got ideas for where and tell him to contact a war photographer named Don…" Maggie paused, trying to remember the right name.

"McCullin." Chris supplied.

Maggie smiled at her. "Right, Don McCullin. He's not to tell anyone who he's shooting. Tell Derek we'll talk more tomorrow morning. See if you can set up a meeting."

"No problem. And I'll have a car for you in a just a minute." Jenny dialed the phone as Maggie and Chris headed towards the door.

"Just a sec!" Maggie darted back into her office and grabbed a handful of the new fan club pins they'd just gotten in. She handed some to Chris. "Offerings to appease the fans," she explained.

The two of them went out to wait for the car and to give the pins to any fans that might be waiting.

"Maggie, is John coming out?" an American voice called. The girl who had been sitting on the curb leapt up.

"Sorry, no, none of them are at Apple today. They might be in tomorrow though, since they're not scheduled at the studio. Would you like a pin?" Maggie offered, knowing it was a poor substitute for a Beatle.

"Thanks," she said, taking the pin. She looked crestfallen. "I should have known they weren't here since there are no other fans camped out. They all seem to know, but I'm kind of new to this. And I have to fly home on Saturday, so tomorrow is my last day. And I have this for John." She held up a drawing of him.

"Oh, that's great!" Chris admired the picture - it was very well-done.

"I can try to get him to come in tomorrow so you can give it to him. If for some reason that doesn't happen, just leave it with the secretary in front and we'll make sure he gets it." Because of what had happened to John in her original timeline, Maggie was conflicted when it came to the fans. Of course, out of all the thousands and thousands of fans John had met over the course of his life, only one of them had turned out to be crazy. But it had only taken one.

John was fearless though and insisted that the fans were important to the band, that they had made the Beatles what they were. Though John could be formidable when he was in a bad mood, he was remarkably patient as long as the fans were respectful. He might be rude to any number of other people – but he'd never dream of treating a young girl with a hand-drawn picture that way. The others were much the same, though George had the least patience for it. He still couldn't understand what the fascination with him was and preferred to be left alone. He most appreciated the fans that treated him like a normal person rather than an object.

The problem with keeping John safe from any potentially crazy fans, though, was that there were just so many of them. Maggie had settled for quietly hiring some plainclothes security to hang around EMI and Apple, as well as their house, keeping an eye on the situation. She could never get away with the unpopular move of not letting fans sit outside the buildings and wait. But at least if one of them were to draw a gun, security would be there to help. It was the best she could do, so she lived with it.

The car service had arrived by now and Maggie and Chris waved goodbye to the girl and turned to get into the car.

"Oh, wait! Can I take your picture?" The girl asked, suddenly remembering that even if Maggie wasn't a Beatle, she was a Beatle wife.

"Sure." Maggie smiled.

"Do you want to be in the picture?" Chris offered, holding out her hand for the camera.

"Yes!" The girl stood next to Maggie, who put an arm around her. They smiled, Chris snapped the picture and handed back the camera.

"Thanks!"

Maggie half-wondered if that picture would show up in some future book or blog, a thought that always made her feel a bit funny. Like an interloper or a fraud. But she shrugged it off knowing this was the life she'd chosen and even fought for. And she loved it, unwanted fame by association and all. Getting into the car, Maggie and Chris drove off. The fan sat back down on the curb, next to her purse, which was still hanging on the iron fence that fronted Apple. Maggie had said the Beatles wouldn't be back tonight, but you never knew. One would probably show up the minute she left. Or maybe she'd give it another hour or two and then try to find her way to EMI. The girl got out her sketch pad and started doing a sketch of Maggie. She'd bring it tomorrow along with the one of John.

"Luv, you made it!" A relieved Beatle kissed Maggie on the cheek and handed her a packet of biscuits.

"Of course! Did you think I wouldn't come?" Maggie opened the package gratefully. She was hungry all the time now that the nausea from her first trimester had worn off.

"No, it's just that I could really use some fans tonight. You know how that lot is." George waved in the direction of the studios.

"Well, you know you're my favorite Beatle. Now how about an autograph?"

With a wicked grin, George whipped a pen out of his back pocket. "A good Beatle is always prepared!" He grabbed her wrist and carefully wrote his name on her forearm.

"Now how am I supposed to sell this on eBay?" Maggie asked, laughing.

"What's eBay?" George asked, but before Maggie could answer, George spotted Chris.

"Hello, Chris, good to see you." George gave her a kiss on the cheek as well. "Would you like an autograph as well?"

Maggie rolled her eyes. George was an incorrigible flirt. The Quiet One indeed. Wasn't it always the quiet ones you had to look out for?

"I'd love one – is Ringo around?" Chris said with a wink. Maggie snickered. Clearly the girl could handle herself.

George looked at them both and with a helpless laugh threw his arms around both of their shoulders. "I like her," he said to Maggie. "You should bring her 'round more often. Come on, then. I want you to hear something."

The three of them walked into Studio Two where Ken Scott, the studio engineering was busy bustling around, setting up mics. George's acoustic guitar sat on a stand.

"We're going to record some takes of 'While My Guitar Gently Weeps'," George said.

"HELLO LUV," a voice boomed over the loudspeaker from the control room. Maggie looked up and saw her husband waving madly from the window. Paul's face appeared too. He crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at her. Maggie grinned and waved back. She looked back at George who seemed a little subdued.

Maggie took George's arm and pulled him aside. "They're just children begging for attention. Don't let them throw you off. This song will be really great. It already is really great. They will get that when they hear it."

"They already heard it when we did the demos my place, so I'm not sure they do get it."

"They will, trust me."

"I wanted to do this song acoustic, but maybe it needs something more."

"Why not do it both ways? Record the acoustic version and then try making it faster, more electric."

"Are you giving me a hint?" George peered at her, looking for clues in her expression.

"That would be cheating, wouldn't it?" Maggie wagged a finger at him. "You'll figure it out. But right now, I want to be sure you get the acoustic version down. Play it for me?" Maggie batted her eyelashes, pretending to be flirtatious.

"I always play it for you, luv." George said seriously. His tone snapped her out of her playfulness. Maggie blinked and looked up at him. He blushed a little, looked down, and then squeezed her arm before heading back to where his guitar was set up. Maggie stared at him, not knowing what to think about what he'd just said.

Chris had dragged a chair over near where George was set up and Maggie sank into it gratefully. Maggie was afraid that at four months or so pregnant, if she sat on the floor she'd never be able to get up. Chris, on the other hand, sank gracefully down to the floor near Maggie's feet. They both looked expectantly up at George.

"Come on, Beatle, play us a song!" Maggie commanded. "Dance, monkey!" George grinned at her, all traces of whatever had just passed between them gone.

George Martin's voice was soon heard over the loudspeaker, asking for a soundcheck. And then they were rolling.

Maggie smiled as she watched George play the intro in the style he'd learned from Donovan in Rishikesh, and then closed her eyes as his voice and the song swirled around her. No matter how many times she heard this one, she still loved it. She'd always love the fast version with Clapton's mournful guitar solos, but the gentle, acoustic version on the Anthologies, with its extra verse, captivated her.

Suddenly her eyes snapped open. This wasn't just LIKE the version on the Anthologies – it WAS the version. She looked up at George, who had his eyes on her. Note for note, phrase for phrase, it fit exactly with the song she'd sung along to hundreds of times. And all along he'd been singing it to her.

Now it was Maggie's turn to blush and look away, though she wasn't quite sure why. It was hardly a love song. When she looked back, George was focused on his guitar, his long fingers skillfully picking the notes of the outro, until he ended on a strummed chord.

When the sound had finally died down, George called up to the booth, "Let's hear that back!"

Maggie and Chris hung out at the studio for the rest of the evening. The rest of the band came down from the control booth and set up for more recording. George had taken Maggie's suggestion to heart and ran the band through the song at a few different tempos. Pattie Harrison showed up just as things were being packed up for the night. She'd been visiting her sister in London and stopped by to see if George wanted to go out for dinner when he was through at the studio, but when she saw Maggie there, she insisted that everyone come along.

"Are you sure it's okay?" Chris whispered to Maggie.

"Of course! I'm going to see if Ken and George M. want to come along too," she replied, gesturing to the sound booth above.

"Oh, would you like me to do it? It'll save you a trip up the stairs."

"Would you mind?"

"Not at all. Better than standing around awkwardly." Chris gave her a wink.

Maggie knew what she meant. She could easily remember the day she'd first set foot in this studio. The day she'd met John. Much of that day had been awkward – the rest of it had been wonderful. Looking around, she saw John and Paul, heads close together, deep in discussion. George had his arms around his wife, who was giggling at Ringo, who was miming an apparently funny story. It was amazing how quickly she'd come to love the people in this room. That first day felt both like it was yesterday and a million years ago.

Dinner was a typically festive affair. The Beatles were always fun socially, even when they weren't seeing eye to eye in the studio. Ken Scott had come along for dinner, and though he'd seemed a little uneasy at first (EMI staff still always seemed a little surprised when they were invited out), he had relaxed once the first round of drinks had been served, and he and Paul were amiably arguing about tape loops.

Chris was happy to find herself next to Maggie and across from Pattie and George. Pattie someone she'd secretly admired for years. In fact when Chris had lived in LA, back when she'd been considering the move to London, she'd imagine being best friends with Pattie. Her daydreams about sitting in Pattie's kitchen laughing and gossiping were a little embarrassing now when faced with the real thing; while George was friendly and borderline flirtatious, Pattie seemed slightly aloof. Still, Chris felt the need to try to connect with her, if only to justify her place at this table. Surely if Ken could fit in, she could - and he was as much of an outsider as she was, for all that their days revolved around the Beatles.

"I love the way you do your makeup," Chris blurted out to Pattie. Pattie looked confused, even flustered.

"Thank you," she said after an eternity.

"Do you think you might someday show me how to do my makeup?" Chris said, stumbling over her words a bit. At this, Pattie looked more amused than annoyed. Chris wanted to sink into the floor. She'd been trying to be friendly but she felt like a total fool.

"I'm a friend of Derek's," Chris added, trying to make it seem like she wasn't a stalker or crazy person. "I've been working with Maggie and with Peter Asher in A&R. I've only been in London a short time, so I don't know that many people. Perhaps we could get together some time?" Chris couldn't believe her own nerve.

"Yes," Pattie said regally, "That's a possibility." Chris wasn't sure how to read this, but she'd take it. George was fun to flirt with, he was after all, a Beatle - but Pattie Harrison was the one Chris really wanted to get to know better.

* * *

><p>AN

We're going to do things a little differently and just post chapters when we have them. So there might be several at once. And we won't have a posting schedule. Chapter 10 is coming right up!

One of our big inspirations here is Chris O'Dell's book, which we love. The last scene is based on an actual conversation she had with Pattie.

Also, Jenny Wren and I were lucky enough to meet Pattie at a talk she gave in DC a few months ago. She was SO nice and it was a real thrill to meet her!


	10. Chapter Ten

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

Maggie had long ago decided she preferred the clubs and bars of the 1960s to the ones in her own time. Sure, the music was still loud, but it was, in her opinion, of better quality. It didn't hurt to be in a circle populated by people who were responsible for that music - already rock legends, or someday would be. No, you couldn't really compare. This current party was being thrown by Mick Jagger, not for any special occasion, but just because he liked to throw parties.

Maggie sat on her barstool, next to John, taking in the scene. They were surrounded by friends who were largely being considerate by not blowing cigarette smoke in her direction. Paul was in usual form, telling a funny story from the Mad Day Out, and enjoying being the center of attention. She was nursing what was clearly a non-alcoholic drink, which had escaped comment – until now.

"Would you like another, luv?" It was Mick, and he was waving fresh glass of clear liquid in front of her.

"No, thanks, Mick, sticking with water for right now." Maggie tried not to roll her eyes. Mick had been trying to refresh her drink all night and she was pretty confident the clear liquid in them wasn't non-alcoholic. If she didn't know better (and if she didn't know that Mick knew better), she'd think Mick was trying to get her drunk.

"Perhaps you'd like something stiffer than what you've got there," he said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"I told you my drink is fine," Maggie said, trying to keep it light. She looked over at John for rescue, but he was laughing at something Paul was saying and not paying attention.

"I was talking about Lennon." Mick smirked and let his eyes do an exaggerated wander down towards John's crotch, and then had to dodge as John - who had finally caught on - threw a playful punch in his direction. This time Maggie did roll her eyes. _Boys_.

"You know where to find me if you change your mind, luv," Mick called out before strolling away drink in hand. He was on a mission to make sure everyone was having a good time at his party. You had to give him credit – he did his best to take care of his party guests. The female ones anyway.

Maggie turned her attention back to Paul who was mid-story. "I swear I would have died if John hadn't saved me!"

"I grabbed for you too, John was just faster," George protested.

"Are we sure George wasn't the one that pushed him?" John quipped and everyone laughed.

The Mad Day Out had been a chance for the band to get out of the studio, play dress-up for the day, and mug for the cameras. Maggie was thrilled to see some of her favorite Beatle photos come to life. Watching John lay his head playfully and affectionately on Paul's shoulder made them look as far as possible from musical partners destined for a nasty breakup. Seeing the band mingle and hide in a crowd, staring through the railings of a church garden gave Maggie a weird sense of déjà vu – she'd had a t-shirt with that image on it. All in all, it had been a bizarre and delightful day – excepting Paul nearly falling from a Tube station roof.

Maggie sighed and rubbed her pregnant belly. The baby was pressing on her bladder again, so it was time for another trip to the rest room. She hadn't gotten very far before her progress was impeded by Mick Jagger, who had a desperate look in his eye. He didn't give her time to argue, he just grabbed her arm and steered her towards the dance floor. Before Maggie could protest, she was on the center of the floor, surrounded by people writhing and jumping around.

"Mick," she yelled, but he couldn't hear her over the loud music. Nor could he see her, and he was still focused on towing her across the room, weaving circuitously through the crowd, until they were on the other side of the dance floor.

"Mick! What in the hell?" Maggie said, as soon as she thought he could hear her.

"Hush, luv, in here, quick!" Mick said, pulling her into the coat check room, and lowering her down behind a long coat rack as gently as he could. It was still summer, so the rack didn't offer as much protection from prying eyes as it would have in the winter, but there were a few forlorn looking jackets hanging from it. Maggie was grateful for that - all she needed was for John to see her hiding in a coatroom and being groped by Mick.

But Mick wasn't trying to grope her. Or kiss her. Actually, he looked rather like he was cowering behind her.

"Mick?"

"You've got to hide me!"

"What?"

"Save me! It's her!"

"Her who?"

Just then Maggie saw a small black shadow flit past big window that fronted the coatroom.

"Yoko!" Both their voices echoed with horror.

Mick whispered, "Don't move, don't make a sound."

Maggie waited and watched as the shadow moved past again. It hesitated for a moment this time, which made Mick clutch at her, but finally it disappeared. It was a few more minutes before Mick would let her peer cautiously around the few coats that had been shielding them.

"Is she gone?" Mick said timidly.

"I think so. But do you want to tell me what the hell this is about?" What was Yoko doing here? She'd left town after John had made it clear he wasn't interested, and she hadn't been back since.

"What this is about is that that woman intends on bagging herself a rock star. She's moved on from Lennon to me!"

"What?" Maggie looked at Mick incredulously, taking in his wild panicked eyes.

"She's been following me all over town for the last week. Coming to gigs, parties, sending me postcards with ridiculous things on them." He started banging the back of his head against the wall gently. "Then she just showed up here, completely uninvited. I saw her coming at me so I panicked and grabbed the first person I saw and ran. Which was you. Sort of makes you collateral damage, luv. Sorry.

"No, Mick. I'm the one who's sorry." Maggie patted him on the arm. "Really." As much as she hadn't appreciated being yanked across the club when she had to go to the bathroom, she full well understood Mick's desperate need to get away from Yoko.

"Can't your girlfriend do anything to help?"

"Marianne thinks it's hilarious."

"Oh, Mick."

"Besides, she's out of town, so I'm all alone and vulnerable."

Maggie cocked an eyebrow and pursed her lips. "Uh-huh."

"What? I am vulnerable, whether or not you believe it." He folded his arms and stuck out his full lower lip in a pout.

Maggie giggled.

"Fine, let me check to see if the coast is clear and I'll help you up," Mick said with a sigh.

Maggie pondered the situation on her way back to her bar stool. It struck her as funny that Mick, who normally loved being chased by women, had been frightened off by Yoko, while John had clearly found her fascinating. She supposed it was because John seemed to like forming deep connections with people, whereas Mick struck Maggie as someone just looking for a fun time. Yoko was not a fun time. For anyone.

Maggie sat back on her barstool, next to John, and let the conversation swirl around her. She wondered if Yoko would try to approach John at all, but she didn't. She was there though. It wouldn't have been obvious to the untrained eye, but Maggie could spot her small, dark figure from miles away. Every once in a while, she would see it flutter through the crowd, darting in now and then when Yoko had spotted her prey. She saw Mick flee across the room in terror a few times, which made her chuckle despite herself. Finally, she saw Mick nearly crash into the lovely Chris O'Dell. After a quick glance over his shoulder, Mick introduced himself and pulled Chris onto the dance floor, where they quickly got lost. That was the last Maggie saw of either of them that night.

* * *

><p>AN

Hope you enjoyed this one - it was fun to write. We have to disappear again for a little while to do more writing. But we'll be back!

Happy New Year to all our lovely readers! Thanks for sticking with us!N


	11. Chapter Eleven

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

The door downstairs slammed, startling Maggie out of a deep sleep. She pried her eyes open to try to get a look at the clock - it was 4:45 am. This didn't surprise her - the Beatles often recorded until the wee hours. Maggie didn't mind staying up late, but she had limits, and waiting up until 5am for John to get home was one of them. Especially while pregnant. Usually her husband was quiet when he came in, but the slamming door must have meant another fight. They were more and more frequent these days, something that made the pit of Maggie's stomach ache every time she thought about it. She wanted so badly to keep this band together, but it was looking like a split might be inevitable. Shades of Brian and the inevitability of his death still haunted her - after all, he'd only been gone a year.

Maggie wondered what the fight had been about this time. John had been complaining about the outro to the current song they were recording being "dreary," so maybe the row had been with Paul.

She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and fished for her slippers. Grabbing her robe she headed downstairs, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"Luv, I woke you. I'm sorry." John looked up apologetically, as she shuffled into the kitchen. "I'm making tea. Do you want a cuppa?"

"Sure. Decaf, please."

John banged cups and kettles around noisily and inefficiently.

"Was it Paul and "Hey Jude" this time?" Maggie asked, unable to contain her curiosity. She lowered herself into a chair and watched him bustle around the kitchen.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on – you guys must have had a fight or you wouldn't be so upset now."

"I'm not upset, am I?" he said, clearly lying.

"Usually you don't bang doors and make tea at five in the morning. You just come right to bed."

John looked at Maggie for a moment. There was no point hiding it from her. "It wasn't Paul, it was George. Actually, it was both of them."

Maggie sat silently and waited for him to pull his thoughts together.

"It started with Paul. You know he's working on Mary Hopkin's album. Complete shite."

"John!"

"Oh, you don't like it either, admit it."

"I like "Goodbye!"

"You like Paulie's girlish rendition of "Goodbye," not Mary's. Which is only slightly less girlish."

Maggie rolled her eyes. "Fine, guilty as charged. Get on with the story."

"Paul wants it released by the end of this month, but I wanted Pete's album out then too."

"Uh-oh."

"Yeah. George said I cared more about Pete's album than the current Beatles one."

Maggie held her breath.

"And that we already had a drummer, and his name was Ringo, and not to forget it."

"That seems a little unfair. I don't think you're trying to replace Ringo in the Beatles," Maggie said, a little uneasy about where this was all going.

"Well, I denied wanting to replace Ringo, didn't I? But George brought up some old interview where when asked if Ringo was the best drummer in the world, I'd said he wasn't even the best drummer in the Beatles." John put Maggie's teacup down in front of her and then set his own down harder, causing it to slop over the sides. He grabbed a towel and mopped at the table, agitated. "Some two year old, smart-ass comment that I'd already apologized for. That I didn't mean. And George brings it up again. So then Ringo gets a hurt look on his face and leaves. Says he's out of the band."

"What? He quit the band?" Maggie looked up in shock.

"Yeah. And then George says that if Ringo's out, he's out too. And Paulie is just sitting there with this look on his face, his band falling apart his ears. I couldn't take it. I just left."

"John, you have to fix this." Maggie felt the panic rising in her stomach. The Beatles couldn't fall apart two years early. She calmed herself by trying to remember that Ringo had originally quit the band around this time, but had come back. Maybe it wasn't too late to fix things. Maggie gripped John's hand. "You have to apologize to Ringo."

"Why should I bloody apologize – it was George set him off, wasn't it?"

"Maybe Ringo does think you're trying to bring Pete back into the band."

"Why would he do that? Ringo's one of me best mates."

"So was Pete, once upon a time."

"Christ, that's going to follow me forever, isn't it?" John put his head in his hands. "What a fucking mess."

"John, if you can make up with Pete, than you can make up with Ringo. It'll be ok." Maggie paused. "What about Pete and Mary's albums – did you resolve that?"

"No."

"I think you'd better let Paul go ahead with Mary's album. It's less controversial. And you need to sort things out with the others. I'm really glad you've become friendly with Pete again, but you have to make sure the others don't think you're throwing them over. Then release Pete's album."

John put his head down on the table, heavily. "It was so much easier when I was ignoring Pete's existence," he said in a muffled voice.

"Welcome to being a grown-up," Maggie said.

"I suppose a grown-up would apologize to Ringo."

"Yep. And George."

"Guess I'm not one then. If anything, George owes me an apology for starting this mess."

Maggie sighed. George was her best friend. It was going to be tough to be in the middle if they continued to stay in a fight. "First things first. Talk to Ringo."

"I'll go over there tomorrow."

"That's my man. Now, why don't you come to bed. It's late. Or, early."

"Bed – that's a grown-up thing, isn't it?"

"You sound like a man with something to prove."

"Maybe so, luv. Maybe so." With that, John pulled her out of her chair and into his arms, where he gave her a long kiss. It was amazing that even after being together a few years, he could make her knees weak.

John looked over his shoulder uncomfortably at the handful of fans assembled in front of Ringo's house. He banged on the door again. "Christ, Ritchie, let me in. There's fans."

"Go away," Ringo called from inside the house.

John rattled the door. "Come on, I'm here to apologize, you stupid git. Let me in."

The door opened. "You certainly have a funny way of apologizing."

"Can I come in?"

"Suit yourself."

With a last look at the few fans lingering near Ringo's drive, John followed Ringo inside the house and to the downstairs bar.

"Drink?" Ringo asked.

"Sure, whatever you're having."

Ringo poured them both scotch and cokes and sat next to John one of the stools.

John opened his mouth, but Ringo cut him off. "Look, John. I'm just not playing that well lately. And I'm kind of the outsider here. You and Paul and George have been writing and recording song after song. I'm just feeling unloved and out of it, and the rest of you are really close. And now you're recording with your old drummer on the side. It's always been you three. Or four even. I'm just the drummer you brought to fill an empty spot.

"What? I always thought it was you three," John said, taken by surprise at Ringo's words.

"I'm not sure how you could think that, when I'm always the one off playing chess while you three make music."

"I don't know," John said. "I guess I've always just felt a bit apart…"

"If you've ever felt that way, Johnny, it's because you set yourself apart. You've always done just as you pleased, whether it be vacationing with Brian, or falling in love with a girl from the future, or…"

"Or making an album with my old drummer," John finished for him. "Look, Ritchie, it's never been about replacing you as a drummer. Christ, this was never meant to hurt anyone. Maggie made me see that I owed Pete something for sacking him without ever another word. No, worse, having someone else sack him. Sitting in with his group just kind of happened. And once I got a taste of recording…"

"Recording without us…" Ringo interjected with a sad note in his voice.

John shook his head. "Without Paul, if you want the truth. You know what he's like. It was just…freeing."

The two men sat quiet for a few minutes.

"Is this an end?" Ringo finally asked.

"No, not an end – working with Pete was just a break. From Paul, from the Beatles. It was something new." John swished his drink around and then quickly downed the rest of it for courage. He looked over at Ringo. "Rich, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings," he said sincerely.

"You are?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not sure I've ever witnessed John Lennon say he was sorry for anything."

"Sure you have. I had to apologize for that "bigger than Christ" stuff, didn't I? And publicly."

"Yeah, but you didn't really mean it. John, this is…big." Ringo gestured with his hands.

"It's Maggie. Don't tell anyone she's made me gone soft. My reputation as a tough Teddy Boy will be in tatters."

"I think making up with Pete has already put a good dent in that."

"Do you think it was the right thing?" John asked, suddenly insecure. "I ask you since you weren't his bandmate like George and Paul were. You're impartial."

"I'm not sure I am that. But overall yeah, I think it was a good thing. But maybe you should have talked to Paul and George first, to warn them. You kind of sprang your reconciliation on all of us. It put them in a bad spot. They didn't have time to decide how they should be treating Pete."

"Sometimes I feel like I can't win."

"Welcome to being a grown-up," Ringo said with a grin.

"Did you talk to Maggie?" John accused.

"No, why, did she say the same thing?"

"Yeah."

"Smart lady."

"Are we ok?"

"Yeah. But I still think I need a break. You said you needed one – well, maybe I understand that too."

"A break, but not an end?"

"No, not an end."

John found Maggie curled up in the den with a newspaper.

"Hello, luv," he said, sitting down heavily. He pushed the paper aside and wiggled under her arm til his head was in her lap.

She grinned and bent down to kiss his forehead. "Sorry, John, you're going to have to share lap space for a while."

He smiled up at her and patted her stomach gently. "I don't mind."

"How did it go with Ringo?"

"Ok. I think we're ok. He still wants a break though. Said he's taking the family to Greece or something."

Maggie froze for a second – "Wait, Greece? Oh, yes, this is good, very good!"

"What are you on about?" John sat up before her bouncing up and down dumped him on the floor.

"Octopuses, remember?" Maggie said excitedly.

"We've discussed octopuses before, then?"

"Oh John, yes, when we first met! I told you all that Ringo wrote a song about octopuses which was responsible for my early love of the Beatles!"

"If you're saying he writes this song in Greece then I suppose I'd better let him go." John thought for a moment. "Do you think if he didn't go and wrote a song about octopuses, that you could just disappear on me?"

"Well, it happened in 'Back to the Future.' Sort of." At John's blank look, she explained, "It's an 80s movie."

"Ah. Then I will hold onto you very tight and not let you go 'til you have your octopus song." John moved closer to Maggie and wrapped her in his arms.

"And my love of the Beatles?"

"And that." He kissed her head.

"And my love of one particular Beatle?" Maggie said.

"Yes, that too," John smiled at her. "We all love Ringo."

* * *

><p>AN Hooray for Ringo! Can the band hold it together long enough to finish the White Album? Stay tuned!


	12. Chapter Twelve

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

"Maggie, you've got to do something about John." Paul was walking in agitated circles around his kitchen. The Cuban heels of his boots clicked a staccato rhythm against the tile, causing Maggie to smile fondly. The boys rarely wore their old boots anymore, but Paul still did from time to time. "He's out of control."

"It's John. He's always out of control." Maggie took a sip of her tea and rested a hand on her swollen belly. She was almost five months along and felt like she was really starting to balloon up. She tried not to think about how many months she still had left until the baby came. "What do you want me to do?"

"Get him to stop trying to bloody break up my band, that's what." With that, Paul collapsed into an overstuffed, mustard yellow chair in the adjoining living room and scowled, looking all the more handsome for it. _Cute one indeed!_

Following him into the living room, Maggie forced herself not to laugh at Paul's childish behavior. He could sulk like no other when he wanted to. Usually Paul was the eternal diplomat who rarely broke his cool. It figured that it would be John to bring him to his breaking point. "Look, Paul, I'm on your side." She set aside her blue flower-patterned teacup and focused her gaze on the irate Beatle before her. "I told you from the very beginning that the last thing I wanted was for the Beatles to break up."

"Then why did you tell him to talk to Pete? Things were fine as they were." Paul lit up a cigarette and then immediately stubbed it out after a raised eyebrow from Maggie, but not before grumbling, "Bloody hell," under his breath.

"Were they? For Pete?" Maggie sat on the matching yellow sofa and tucked her bare feet under her in an attempt to get comfortable. "I respect your right to replace your drummer and God knows I love Ringo, but you guys were really unfair to Pete. Frankly, you all owe him an apology, not just John. Pete isn't the problem here. He's just a symptom that something else is wrong."

"Yeah, well that symptom is breaking up my band!"

"Well, maybe if you'd stop being so damned controlling, John wouldn't be looking for somewhere else to play. And George isn't far behind him." Maggie snapped her mouth shut, realizing she was nearly shouting. She loved Paul and he was a brilliant musician, but she knew how frustrating he could be to collaborate with.

"Me?" Paul sat up and poked a finger at his chest. "You're pinning this on me?"

"Two words, Paulie." She held up two fingers. "Ob-la-di." She put one finger down. "Ob-la-da." She lowered her second finger, ignoring his aghast expression. "Only you could take one of the happiest songs I've ever heard and make your bandmates want to murder you over it."

"I just wanted the song to be right," Paul said, somewhat subdued.

"But at what cost? Look, the song is awesome. You're awesome. You're an amazing musician and songwriter. But you're not a solo act, you're part of a band, and you've got to let George and John, and Ringo for that matter, be a part of the creative process." Maggie reached back for her tea, needing to wet her throat.

"Well, maybe I should do a solo album." Paul got up and started walking in agitated circles again.

Maggie's hand froze mid air, and she mentally smacked herself in the head. How was she managing to single-handedly plant the seeds for the Beatles break-up? Could they survive making records without each other? Or maybe that would be the only thing that could keep them together.

"You know, Paul," Maggie said slowly, "Maybe you should. In my time bands work a lot differently than they do here in the 60s. Lots of bands get together every few years to make an album and they have side projects and other things between albums." She took a sip and then made a face. The tea was now luke-warm. "You guys have been in a pressure cooker since what, '62? Maybe you do need a break from each other. And yet you have so much good music left in you. I've heard it." Maggie chose her words carefully. She was never sure how much she should let on to the band as far as their future together went. She didn't want to say too much and cause them to break up or ruin every surprise. On the other hand, she'd already meddled plenty, and she'd yet to see the outcome. In for a penny, in for a pound. "Maybe you should consider working on some solo stuff. You can control it as much as you want. And maybe it would make you more willing to let the others in on the Beatles stuff. You've got to trust them as musicians. George knows very well that you don't trust him and that's going to drive him away, ultimately."

"I do trust George, it's just… I don't know." Chewing on his lower lip, Paul had a faraway look in his hazel eyes as he took a few minutes to gather his thoughts. "I have this vision in my head of how I want a song to be and it's so strong that it's hard to want to veer off from that. It's like this need to translate it into what I know it can be. Sometimes that comes easy and sometimes…"

"Sometimes it's Ob-la-di Ob-la-da," Maggie finished for him.

"Yeah." Paul ruffled his hair with his hand, nearly standing it on end. It was a look Maggie had never really seen despite the thousands of pictures she'd seen of him and she found her heart fluttered as her brain quietly reminded her that _holy cow she was in the presence of an actual Beatle. _She swallowed a smile over the fact that even after all this time these guys could still occasionally get to her like this – she was married to John for goodness sakes – and focused on Paul and his problem.

"If you knew that you could channel your perfectionism into some solo stuff, would that take some of the pressure off The Beatles?"

"Not sure." He shrugged.

"Can you try cutting George a break?"

"Not sure." This time Paul laughed. Maggie gave him a pointed look. "I know, I know. I'll try to be better about George, I will."

"Do you think you guys can kiss and make up?"

"You just want us to kiss, period." Paul shook his head at Maggie.

"Well, you four are awfully cute together." Maggie smiled, feeling some of the tension leave the room. "I've already talked to John about seeing if Apple can schedule Pete's band's album release for a few week's after Mary's. That way you're not competing." She cocked her head to the side and met Paul's gaze. "I can definitely assure you that though John enjoyed filling in here or there on the album, he doesn't have any plans to leave The Beatles, or even any really serious plans for a solo project. You know John anyway – one minute he's got a wild hare to do something, and five minutes later, he's on to something else."

"Like when he wanted us to suspend him from the ceiling and swing him around the mic for 'Tomorrow Never Knows.' Even sent Mal out for a rope." Paul chuckled at the memory.

"And Mal was smart enough to go to the pub instead, knowing that John would have forgotten all about it by the time he got back."

"You heard that one, eh?" He raised a dark eyebrow.

"I think it was in Geoff Emerick's book," she admitted. "It really made me laugh, even before I actually knew John."

"Emerick writes a book? Does he 'tell all'?" The look on Paul's face made it clear that he was wondering whether he should be annoyed or not.

"It's not salacious or anything," Maggie said. "Actually it's one of my favorites about The Beatles because it talks so much about what it was like recording you. So let him write it, Paulie."

"Fine, fine." He dismissed the thread of conversation with a wave of his hand, still clearly upset over the state of his band.

"Paul, I promise. John's not going anywhere. And Ringo will be back from Greece next week… I suggest flowers."

"Noted." Paul gave Maggie a wry smile.

"I don't think George is going anywhere either. John's talking to him right now, I think."

"And he sent you over to talk with me?" A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth and his forehead wrinkled.

"Nah, I came of my own accord. I figured you might need someone to talk to. I thought you might be a bit upset about your band melting down."

"Thanks." Paul picked at an invisible piece of lint on the back of the sofa. "I am. Was. I don't know. Sometimes I just get the feeling that the Beatles mean more to me than the others. I love the Beatles. I love being a Beatle. I'm proud of what we've accomplished." He gazed at some point to the right and behind Maggie, as if he was afraid to meet her eyes. "And I want us to stay together and keep putting out albums. I'd love to gig again." He sounded almost wistful.

"Well, you'll probably have a much tougher time talking George into playing live. But I'm pretty sure he will stick around to record. Especially if you let him have a few tracks on the next album."

"A few?" Paul's gaze focused back on Maggie's face. "He normally gets one!"

"And you wonder why he wants out," Maggie said, shaking her head.

"Fine, fine. We can work it out."

Maggie shot Paul a grin. "Life is very short."

"And there's not time for fussing and fighting, eh?"

"Exactly." Maggie shot a glance at her watch – she needed to get going soon.

"You know, luv, for someone who's not actually our manager, you do a lot of managing." Noticing Maggie checking the time, Paul stood up and extended a hand to help her to her feet.

"Is that good or bad?" She took his hand, grateful for the assist.

"Usually good – clearly you seem to know what's best for us."

"Yeah, but that's just because I've seen the future. It's not anything more than that."

"But it is. You_know_ us." Paul guided them both toward the front door. "And you also want what's best. You're not looking for a piece yourself."

"Some might say I already got myself a piece. A full one-fourth of the band, to be precise." Maggie scooped up her car keys and flashed Paul a wink.

"Oh, don't listen to the papers. They're full of shite anyway." Then his eyes brightened in a way that often worried Maggie. "Hey, luv, maybe _you_ should be our manager…"

Maggie shook her head before he was even finished talking. _If only I was more than one person, if I could somehow steer them around arguing over who their new manager should be_. But reality set in. "In what spare time? And soon we'll have Little Ringo taking up all our energy…"

Paul snorted. "Little Ringo?"

Smiling, she rubbed her protruding stomach. "Well, of course, I'm naming the baby after my favorite Beatle…"

"And here I thought I was your favorite!"

"You're all my favorite!" she said reassuringly.

"That's a lot of names to saddle the poor kid with." Paul opened the front door, and gave Maggie a hug and kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, luv. I'm glad we've become friends, you and I. I've no idea what you had against me at the start."

Giving him a well-deserved smack on the shoulder, Maggie hugged him back before turning toward her car. She needed to get back to Apple.

She was dying to hear what had happened between Chris and Mick Jagger at the party they were at recently, but Chris had somehow managed to evade Maggie since then. Probably because she knew she'd be grilled for all the details.

"Maggie sent you, didn't she?" George said bluntly to the man standing on his front doorstep. "She hates when we fight."

"No. Well, yes, she does hate it." John stared at him over the rim of his granny glasses. "But I came of my own accord."

"Well, you might as well come in. There's fans." George left the door to Kinfauns, his brightly painted Escher bungalow, open. John followed him inside, being careful to close the door behind him. He'd posed for a few photos on the way up the drive, but had no desire for the fans to witness their conversation.

"Would you like something to drink?" George offered, more out of politeness than a desire to have a sit down with John.

"Tea is fine."

George moved silently around the kitchen, filling the kettle and grabbing teacups and saucers out of the cabinet. John watched him for a while and then pulled up a kitchen stool and sat while he tried to figure out what to say. He was about to open his mouth when George looked over at him and said, "It's always been you three, you know. I'm the outsider, the kid who always tagged along after you. Believe me, I get that."

John suddenly doubled over laughing.

"Christ, John, I open up to you and you laugh?" George glared at his bandmate.

"It's just that I had this exact conversation with Ringo," John gasped. The absurdity of it tickled something in him. John tried to pull himself together, since George was still looking at him like he had three heads. He said more seriously, "_He_ thought it was us three. That he was the outsider, since he was the last to join the band."

"That's ridiculous." George said flatly. He filled the cups up with water from the steaming kettle.

"Yes, it is. And it's ridiculous for you to think it. And it's ridiculous for me to think it as well, which, by the way I do." John accepted the cup George passed to him. "I haven't talked to Paul yet, but Maggie went over there for tea and I assume he's telling her the same thing." It was still funny, but it suddenly struck him as sad. "Christ, when did we lose who we were? We used to be able to read each other's minds. But these days…" John took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"As I see it, it's our past that's the problem right now." George sipped his tea then hissed. It was still quite hot and he'd burned his tongue.

"Pete?"

"Yeah. You put me and Paul in a bad spot, you know."

"I know. And I'm sorry." John went to sip his tea, and then thought better of it, and set it down to cool.

"You really…wait, what?" George cocked his head to the side, a confused expression crossing his face.

"I said, I'm sorry. I should have talked to you both first. But, I dunno, once I had it in me head that I needed to make things right with Pete, it felt like it needed to be done immediately." John blew on his tea, then took a timid sip. It had cooled enough.

George was silent. He knew very well what John was like. The apology, on the other hand – that surprised him. Picking up his teacup, he moved around the counter and sat down on the stool next to John. "This whole apologizing thing – it's not a side of you I'm used to."

"That's what Ringo said." John sipped his tea, amused again. The Beatles may have grown apart as they grew up, but it still seemed they could be of one mind.

"Turning over a new leaf, then?" George studied John.

"I guess so."

"Well, good for you."

The two men were silent for a few minutes.

"I'd like it if you and Paul came to Pete's album release party. I understand if you don't want to. But it might be a nice gesture." John smiled to let George know he wasn't trying to pressure him into doing something he didn't want to do.

"I'll think about it, John. Thanks for asking." George gave him a lopsided smile in return. The first genuine smile John had seen on younger man's face in a while.

"I've been told it's what grown-ups do." John informed George politely. He then picked up his teacup and stuck out his finger primly. "Tut tut and whatnot, Georgie boy."

George watched the former Teddy Boy sedately drink his tea and couldn't help but be intrigued by this new side of John. He wasn't sure if it was a passing phase or not, but he couldn't deny that a mild, easy-going John would be easier for them all to deal with in the long run, even if it by rights it should send them looking for an alien pod in John's basement. Because there was always the possibility that the real John had been replaced. However, at the moment George had no complaints.

* * *

><p>AN Well, maybe the White Album will get finished now! Thanks for reading! We love comments!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

"Maggie, can you hand me a towel? I've managed to spill some paint."

Maggie tossed Chris O'Dell a clean rag. "Oh, it's fine. That's what the dropcloth is for."

It was a mild Saturday afternoon in early September. John was over at Paul's working on songs for their upcoming album, and Chris was helping Maggie paint the baby's room.

"How are you feeling?" Chris asked as she wiped up the puddle of paint.

"In general, pretty good. I'm not as tired as I was in the first trimester. I could use a break from painting though. My back is aching! Shall we go make some tea?"

"Tea would be great." Chris surveyed the walls, which were primed and half painted in a pale yellow. "I like the color. Aren't you… you know, rich, though? You could have paid someone to paint it in probably half the time."

"I know – I kind of wanted to do it myself though. I find painting relaxing. There's so much going on at work these days that the thought of going home and just moving a paintbrush up and down somehow seemed appealing." Maggie grimaced and rubbed her back. "It seems a little less appealing now, maybe, but I'm sure when we're done we'll feel a sense of accomplishment."

Chris grinned at that. "Hard labor is good for the soul."

"Exactly." Maggie smiled back. "Thanks for offering to help me out."

"Anytime!"

The doorbell downstairs sounded.

"Do you want me to run down and get that for you?" Chris asked. "I'm a little faster right now." She looked at Maggie's stomach apologetically.

"If you wouldn't mind. With Dot off today, there's no one else to answer the door except us."

Chris grabbed a towel to wipe her hands with and then dashed out the door and down the steps to see who was waiting outside. Maggie soon heard Linda's voice float into the foyer and up the stairs. Maggie leaned over the railing and waved. "Hi Lin!"

"Hi Maggie! I hope you don't mind me popping by. The boys were working on something they told me was top secret, so they told me to come over here so that whatever surprise they were concocting wasn't ruined."

"A surprise? For you? Hmm…" Maggie thought as she walked down the stairs to join Chris and Linda. "Well, your birthday is coming up soon, maybe they're writing you a song? Oh!" Maggie suddenly realized that "Birthday" was on the White Album, and she hadn't heard the band play it yet. Hadn't Paul written it for Linda for her birthday? Maggie grinned at the thought.

"You know something," Linda accused.

"No, no, I don't know anything. John didn't tell me what he was going over to your place to work on," Maggie denied. But she couldn't stop teasing Linda with a knowing smile.

"You definitely know something. And you know what I mean." Linda gave Maggie a meaningful look.

Outside of the Beatles and the late Brian Epstein, Linda was the only one who knew that the truth about Maggie having time traveled from 2006. Though Maggie had felt obligated to warn Linda about the breast cancer in her future, so that they could hopefully prevent it, she'd tried not to let too much else slip.

"My lips are sealed!" Maggie motioned zipping up her lips. "Come on, let's get some tea," she said, putting an arm around a slightly bewildered Chris. She waggled her eyebrows at Linda before turning towards the kitchen. "Chris, why don't you grab some cups and I'll get the hot water going."

The three women bustled comfortably around the kitchen, setting out small plates for the biscuits Linda had brought, as well as the things they would need for tea.

"So, what are you two girls up to today?" Linda asked. "You're both all smudged with paint."

"We're painting the baby's room," Chris explained.

"Even though I'm rich." Maggie added.

"Well, to each their own," Linda said cheerfully. "How far have you gotten?"

"About halfway?" Chris looked at Maggie, who nodded.

"I can help you finish up later if you like," Linda offered.

"Are you sure?" Maggie asked. "Do you want me to lend you some old clothes so you don't get paint on what you're wearing?"

"These old things?" Linda looked down at her Saturday outfit of old jeans and a maternity smock. "Nah. Besides, I'm rich too," she said with a wink. "Chris, we have to land you a successful musician so you can live the high life like us. It's very glamorous being a rock star's wife, you know." Linda reached out and gently wiped a bit of paint off of Maggie's cheek. She looked at her thumb, made a face, and then with a quick smile, wiped it on her jeans. "If only the fan mags could see us now!"

Maggie gave Chris, who was still giggling over Linda's joke, a sly look. "If Chris plays her cards right, she could have a rock star."

"Oh, which one?" Linda said, leaning closer to Maggie.

Chris turned red and got up to pour herself more hot water.

"Mick!" Maggie said triumphantly.

"Please, anyone could have Mick," Chris said as she sat back down at the table. "It's Mick."

"Yeah, who hasn't had him?" Linda said.

Maggie raised her hand. "I would like to make it clear that I have not."

"You must be the only one, then," Linda chuckled.

"He does get around," Chris said nodding.

"How was he with you?" Linda asked Chris curiously.

If Chris was taken aback by the directness of Linda's question, she didn't show it, other than blushing a little. "Nice, actually. Very considerate."

"Oh, I agree, I thought he was quite considerate too. Mind you, this was back in '66. I imagine he's learned a few things since then."

Maggie watched amused, as her two friends talked in detail about Mick's technique in bed. She wished John and the others were here to witness it. They'd been horrified when they'd found out that groupies they'd been with had apparently talked with each other about it. Here was further evidence that comparing notes was exactly what women that slept with rock stars did. In fact, now Linda was comparing Mick's performance with Jim Morrison's.

"I actually had a musician in my bed last week," mused Chris. "Only not in that way," she hastened to add. "He just needed a place to crash. He's some new guy that Apple is working with. He wrote a song in my room and then used half the bed. The next morning he was gone. I thought his song was really good though."

"Which musician is this?" Maggie asked, her curiosity piqued.

"His name is James Taylor."

"James Taylor? Wow, really?" Maggie's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, why? He's no one famous or anything."

"I've, well, got a feeling about him," Maggie said lamely. Linda gave her a pointed look. "What?" Maggie said defensively. "I've heard a few of his songs… um… at work. I think he'll go far."

"_Carolina on My Mind_ – I think that's what he called the song – was pretty good. It was all folky and acoustic," said Chris.

"And he wrote it in your room." Maggie shook her head. "Wow."

"Aren't you married to a Beatle?" asked Chris, confused.

"She did the same thing the first time she met Jim Morrison," Linda said. "All star struck. It was so cute." Linda reached over and ruffled Maggie's hair affectionately. "Come on girls, time to go finish painting the Beatle baby's room before Maggie realizes the room is for _John Lennon's child_!"

Maggie stuck her tongue out at Linda, which made her laugh. But Linda wasn't far off from the truth. Maggie's life still amazed her and sometimes she wondered if it was all a dream. It certainly felt real enough, she mused, as she ran her fingers gently over her swollen stomach. Yes, this was real. She was married to John Lennon and they were having a baby together. And first thing on Monday she was going to hunt down Peter Asher in Apple's A&R department and make sure she got to meet James Taylor.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** Thanks for reading! The story about Chris O'Dell and James Taylor is more or less true. We moved up the recording of Birthday just slightly and though we can't prove it was written for Linda, it's possible that it's true! Also, that Mick gets around, doesn't he? ;-) (No, he and Chris didn't really hook up at this time in real life, but reliable sources had them leaving our fictional party together, so we were sure things came to a natural conclusion!)

I wanted to also thanks FP for always commenting on our chapters, though with private messaging turned off, I can't thank them. So thank you so much! Your comments are always really appreciated! (As are everyone's!)


	14. Chapter Fourteen

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

Maggie glanced up at the clock and then swore under her breath. It was past 7:30 and she'd wanted to leave the office an hour ago. She was trying to finish signing some invoices and finally had to admit to herself that it just wasn't going to happen tonight. Maggie gathered up the papers she had finished into a stack and put them in her outbox. She was just putting the ones that were left into a pile for tomorrow when there was a tentative knock on her door.

Maggie looked up and saw Chris O'Dell's head poking through her doorway. "Hi, Maggie, saw you were working late and wanted to know if I can help with anything."

"Hi, Chris. Actually, I'm just on my way over to the studio and I'm late. George is recording one of my favorite songs, and I don't want to miss it. Or any more of it than I already have!"

"Which song is this?"

"'While My Guitar Gently Weeps.' He did an acoustic version already, but they're also recording an electric one." Maggie shoved a few things into her briefcase and then a thought occurred to her. "Oh! Yes, you can help. Do you have anyplace you need to be?"

"Nope!" Chris replied cheerily.

"Would you mind getting some takeout and bringing it over to the studio?" Maggie knew the boys wouldn't even start to think about dinner until after 9pm. But she was hungry now.

"How about Indian? There's that place across the street that George really likes..."

"Perfect! Order enough food for the band, us, and oh, probably two or three EMI staff. Here's money for that and the cab ride over." Maggie handed Chris a wad of pound notes. "See you there!"

"No problem!"

Maggie pondered Chris on the drive over to the studio. She had long ago decided she liked the young, blonde woman. She was happy to help with whatever was asked of her without being too eager to please. Given her broad knowledge of the Beatles, she wondered that she had never heard of Chris before. Granted she didn't know every employee who worked for Apple in the 60s, but there was something about Chris that made her stick out from the others. She couldn't put her finger on it though. Maybe Chris just stuck out because she was American like Maggie.

Her car arrived at EMI, bringing her thoughts back to George and his latest song. She couldn't wait to hear it again. George hadn't yet mentioned bringing Eric Clapton in to play lead guitar, so Maggie was curious how that would transpire. She remembered that the band had already recorded the backing track for the song back in August (though it had sat for a while) so she wasn't sure what would happen tonight.

Maggie walked into the studio to find half of the band in what appeared to be deep discussion. George had a scowl on his face and Paul was running his fingers through his hair in obvious agitation. Ringo was in the back of the room making a cup of tea, but John was nowhere in sight.

Sensing tension between George and Paul, Maggie walked up to them and said lightly, "What's up, lads? Where's my husband?"

"Oh, hi Maggie," Paul said, looking relieved at the interruption. "He's in the loo."

Maggie couldn't help but smile a bit at that. The day she had met the Beatles it had been Ringo in the loo, but what if it had been John? What if Paul had been the one to see her wink into existence right in front of him? Would she now be Mrs. McCartney instead of Linda?

Maggie turned when she heard the studio door open. John stepped into the room, his hair shaggy but not long, wearing a black turtleneck and a blazer, and looking like a Beatle. Her heart skipped a beat. No, it would have been John. It had always been John for her. Her husband squinted and then pulled his spectacles out of his pocket so he could see more clearly. Though he wore his granny glasses more often than he did the heavy-rimmed pair of his early twenties, he still sometimes got sick of them and would leave them off. Until he needed to see something. Maggie wished LASIK were available in the 60s - John would have jumped at the chance to be done with glasses for good. When asked about wearing contacts, he'd once said that he had to be "bloody stoned to wear the bloody things."

Maggie smiled and waved at John, who came over and gave her a big hug and a kiss.

"What's it to be, George?" John asked, his arm casually thrown around Maggie's shoulders.

"I want to start over again."

"But the song is almost done," Paul protested. "We've overdubbed nearly everything."

"I don't care, it just isn't right. And the solo... the backwards guitar doesn't quite have the sound I want."

"Let's just listen to playback one more time," Paul said. "Maggie hasn't heard it yet. She'll be a fresh set of ears."

"You mean a fresh set of ears that already knows what the final song sounds like," Maggie grinned.

"At least you'll be backing me up on this," George said. "The song just isn't right. I'm sure of it. And God knows, Paul," George turned to his bandmate, "That when it's your song you're not happy with, we have to play it into the ground." His tone was snappish and Maggie winced at the reference to "Ob-la-di Ob-la-da," the happy song that had nearly driven the band to physical violence. But George was right. He had as much right to perfectionism in the studio as Paul did.

"Let's hear the playback," Maggie said, pulling George away from Paul, who was visibly upset. "Come on, we'll listen upstairs."

The two of them climbed up to the recording booth where George Martin was sitting at the control panel, next to his engineer, Ken Scott. They both looked up when the door opened.

"Hello, Maggie!" George Martin's voice was as precise and measured as always but tonight he seemed especially glad to see her. If George and Paul had been sniping at each other all night, it was no wonder.

"Hi, George," Maggie went over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "How are you? How's the family?"

"Fine, thanks, Maggie." George gave her a smile but he looked weary.

"Hi Ken, hope you're hungry! Chris is going to be here soon with some Indian food." Maggie liked to make sure that whatever EMI staff was working the session knew they were included for dinner. Though it was still considered an honor to work on a Beatles session, Maggie knew it was often frustrating. This seemed like it was already one of those days, and it wasn't going to improve if George was right and the whole song needed to be started over again.

Ken cued up the track and Maggie listened carefully. It wouldn't sound exactly like the version she knew - after all, Clapton hadn't recorded the guitar part yet, but she tried to listen carefully to the backing track, the vocals, and overdubs. She could feel George watching her intently, so she tried to keep her face neutral, but it was clear that he could read her anyway.

"I'm right, aren't I?" George said. "It's not it."

"No, George, it's not it." Maggie agreed.

George Martin looked from Maggie to George Harrison, clearly confused by their coded conversation.

"Looks like dinner's here." Ken pointed down to the studio below.

The others peered through the big, glass window, and saw Paul rushing to help a small, blonde woman laden with shopping bags.

"Come on, George, let's go. It's going to be a long night." Maggie grabbed George's arm and pulled him towards the stairs. "Come down when you're ready to eat, there's plenty of food!" Maggie called behind her to George Martin and Ken.

"What's for dinner?" George asked on their way down.

"Indian. From your favorite place."

George brightened at that. "Have I ever told you I love you?" he said affectionately.

Maggie blushed despite herself.

George laughed and gave her a smack on the cheek before hurrying off to help Chris and Paul with the food.

Several hours and 28 takes later, the group agreed on the eighth take as being the best, and it was put aside to be finished the following night.

Maggie watched in amazement as Eric Clapton's fingers glided over his guitar strings. He only used three fingers of his left hand, she noticed, declining to fret any strings with his pinky. He didn't need it – the digits he did use were getting the most mournful, soulful sounds she'd ever heard out of the Gibson Les Paul guitar he was playing.

Maggie looked up to see George smiling in satisfaction.

At the first opportunity, Maggie pulled George aside. "Spill," she said.

"About what?" George gave her a lopsided grin.

"What do you mean, about what? You show up here with Eric on one arm and Pattie on the other, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary... Where did Clapton come from?"

"I gave him a lift from Surrey to London today and it simply occurred to me that he was the thing that was missing. I'm right, aren't I?" George studied Maggie's face closely again.

Maggie looked up at him, exasperated. "Stop studying me like I'm a crystal ball you're trying to see the future in."

George's smile got bigger. "I am right. Or you wouldn't be cross."

"My lips are sealed!" Something in the background distracted Maggie from her conversation with George. It was Eric and Pattie. She was making a cup of tea and he was standing near her, looking at her rather hungrily.

"You'd better go rescue your wife from Eric," Maggie said to George.

"What do you mean?"

"Never mind." Maggie couldn't face dealing with the potential enormity of the Pattie/Eric situation just yet. What year had that all started? Was 1968 too early? Hadn't they gotten together in the 70s? Maggie shook her head to clear it.

"All right, luv. I've got to get back. Why don't you go keep John company – he's probably sad because his guitar solo from last night is being redone."

Maggie glanced over at John who looked perfectly at peace with himself. "Yes, he looks crushed."

George gave Maggie another smile before bellowing, "Eh, mate! Let's do another take," in Eric's direction. Pattie had been looking at up Clapton with big eyes, listening to him telling a story. At George's call, he reluctantly tore himself away from her.

Though Maggie wasn't exactly sure yet if she actually liked Eric, she was, as always, awed when she watched Eric's fingers fly over the strings, bending them, and making them sing. Clapton didn't have a reputation as a guitar god for nothing, and watching him play up close was an amazing experience. Maggie laughed a little to herself, knowing that if Linda could hear her thoughts about being starstruck, she'd once again say, "But you're married to a Beatle!"

As the song wove together over the course of the evening, Maggie could see the other Beatles giving George a little more musical respect. George's instincts on redoing the song had proven sound and Maggie could tell that John and Paul were digging the vibe the newest version had created.

Maggie looked around in wonder that all four Beatles were together in the studio and working on the same song. This wasn't something that often happened during the White Album sessions. It was perhaps even more unusual today, since the musician currently being recorded wasn't even a Beatle. Nevertheless, they were here. Paul had stayed mostly quiet so far, respecting George's lead on this song. But Maggie did notice that when he offered a tentative suggestion about phrasing on the outro, George cocked his head thoughtfully, and then nodded in an affirmative. The two of them were clearly trying to stay on balance with each other tonight, and so far it was working.

After George was satisfied with the lead guitar part, they moved on to adding overdubs. George sang the lead vocals, and then Paul added a harmony, a part Maggie had always loved. Next came the organ, an extra bass guitar part, and Ringo's tambourine and castanets.

John didn't offer any suggestions to George about the direction to the song - he too seemed content just to watch the proceedings and help out where needed. When he wasn't working, he sat next to Maggie on the new couch they'd recently added to the studio, mainly for Maggie's comfort.

She was getting too pregnant to sit cross-legged on the floor or on a stool like she usually did. After John had suggested the couch, she'd made the counter-offer of just having a mattress pulled into the middle of the studio for her. His confused expression had made her laugh and so she told John the story she had once told George about Yoko insinuating herself into the group. That John, in another life, had indeed dragged a mattress into the studio for Yoko, and that Yoko had made George angry because she had stolen his biscuits.

"Luv, you really have saved me, haven't you?" John had said fervently. "To think what might have been…"

"Are you saying Yoko is a fate worse than death?" Maggie had laughed.

"Well, she went too far with the biscuit-stealing, now, didn't she?" John had said in his Liverpudlian cadence that never failed to charm Maggie.

Ringo spent much of the evening puttering around his drums, adjusting things here or there, moving some of the flowers still piled around the kit out of the way. The edges on some of the flowers were starting to brown and Maggie knew they'd have to go soon. But she knew they meant a great deal to the drummer. After Ringo had tried to quit the band, and then gone off and had a vacation in Sardinia instead, he'd come back to the studio to find that the others had put flowers all over his drums, along with a sign that said, "Welcome Back, Ringo!" It had actually brought tears to Ringo's eye and the band had had a bonding moment. They were few and far between these days, but Maggie hoped this was a sign that things were getting better. As John might have said, "They couldn't get no worse…"

While Ringo had been out of town, the band had recorded one of Maggie's favorite songs from the White Album, "Back in the U.S.S.R." – it had been a pleasure to see it come into being. Even without Ringo's cheery presence, the band had worked well together.

That trend appeared to be continuing, judging from how this session for "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" seemed to be going. She wished the harmonious atmosphere could last forever. But she knew it would be a miracle if they got through Pete Best's album release party next week. John had ceded the date he'd wanted to Paul so he could put out Mary Hopkin's record first. In exchange, Paul had agreed to go to the party, but then George had refused to go unless he was promised there'd be no reporters or photographers. This had, of course, caused an argument.

"It's an album release party – the whole point is to promote the record! To the bloody press!" John had roared.

"Well then, I'm not going," George had snapped back. "There'll be a big fuss about a Beatle reunion or some nonsense like that, and I won't be a part of it."

In the end, though, he'd caved when he learned that even Ringo was going to the party. Ringo had simply pointed out how much more awkward it was going to be for him, as Pete's replacement in the band, and George had grudgingly capitulated if reporters were kept away from him.

Maggie figured as long as they got through the night without any fistfights breaking out, it would be a win. And considering this, perhaps it was best that the press were going to be there – they'd keep the boys on their best behavior.

The affair would obviously be uncomfortable for them, but John, who had been Pete's closest mate, had already made his peace. With him leading the way, it shouldn't be too hard for the others to follow suit. They hadn't been nearly as close to Pete as John had been, after all. Ringo had been in another band entirely, and George had been treated as the perpetual younger brother back in Hamburg. Paul had, even back in those days, been more focused on musicality than friendship and hadn't been close with either Pete or their long dead original bass player, Stu Sutcliffe.

Maggie knew Paul would put on his political smile, shake Pete's hand and move on with his life. She just hoped George would be able to do the same.

But for tonight, things were peaceful, and as the band listened to what they had recorded tonight, it was obvious that they were all for once in agreement that it was good.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Sorry we took an extended break - there was lots of traveling and then a big storm that took our power out, and then this chapter got posted in our LJ comm and I spaced on posting it here. Sorry! The good news is that you won't be waiting as long as they are for Chapter 15! (Which is 3/4 done.)


	15. Chapter Fifteen

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

Maggie spent much of September 1968 happily immersed in classic White Album tracks.

The mood of congeniality spawned by the "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" sessions lasted longer than expected. The Beatles peaceably cruised through the recording of both Helter Skelter and Glass Onion, with very little controversy or upheaval. It was perhaps a little surprising considering Helter Skelter started out as a slow blues jam and Maggie would have thought the process of turning it into the cacophony of noise she was familiar with would have had more of a traumatic effect on the band. Especially as the number of recording takes continued to climb well into the teens. Maggie watched in delight as Ringo finally flung his sticks across the room after the 18th take and shrieked the famous line, "I've got blisters on my fingers!" The group finally agreed that take (with Paul on guitar and John on bass) would be the one they would use.

It was with this air of congeniality that the band attended Mary Hopkin's party. It was the less controversial of the two album releases, for which Maggie was grateful. She wasn't especially looking forward to Pete Best's because how the Beatles would behave was a big unknown, even with the press there regulating their behavior.

The only further drama around Mary's album had been around its title. Paul had come round to the house during the late summer with mocked up album cover art to show Maggie and John.

"It's called 'Postcard,'" he said proudly, holding it up. "What do you think?"

John didn't say a word, simply rummaged on the kitchen counter and pulled out a piece of poster board with a moody black and white photo of Pete's band on it, with the word 'Postcard' overlaid on it and held it up for Paul to see.

Paul stared at it in shock. "Well, this is rubbish, isn't it?"

Maggie looked at the two of them, each brandishing an album titled 'Postcard,' and had to clap her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle because the whole situation was so ridiculous.

"But Mary's album is like a series of postcards to the world, each sharing a snippet of her outlook on life," Paul protested.

"Bollocks. That album is nothing but standards with a few second-rate McCartney discards thrown in to give her credibility," John said flatly.

"Hey, I like 'Goodbye,'" Maggie interjected before throwing her gaze at Paul to see how he would return John's volley. She'd defended the song before and she'd happily do it again.

"At least one person in this house has good taste in music," Paul said stiffly. "And I like the album title. It works."

"So do I, and Pete actually HAS a song called 'Postcard,' which is why we bloody named the album that."

"He does?" asked Paul.

"Did you even listen to the album?" John asked, exasperated.

"No, of course not. It's just Pete."

"It's not just Pete, it's Pete and his band. And the songs are good." John looked at Maggie for backup.

She nodded her head in agreement. "The album is good, Paul. I was the one who heard the songs first, and John liked them before he even knew who it was. You should give it a listen. Besides, you said I had good taste in music, right?" she teased.

Paul ran one hand through his shaggy hair, ruffling it. He looked defeated. "Fine, I'll give it a listen."

"Come on, let's go to the music room. I'll put it on and we can talk about new album titles for Mary," John offered.

Maggie held her breath. It wasn't much of a compromise, but that was John for you. He was used to exerting his will and having the rest of the Beatles fall in line. It'd been that way since the early days. He did what he wanted and the others followed. Paul was possibly the only one who would call John out when he thought John was wrong. And with the band constantly at odds with each other, Paul was standing apart from them more often than he used to. Maggie couldn't help but wonder when the band might tackle the idea of hiring a new manager. This issue was going to rear its ugly head and probably sooner rather than later. Maggie knew the fight over management had really divided the band in her original timeline, with Paul taking one side, opposite the rest of the band. He'd sued and they'd broken up.

"Fine, I'll come up with something else," Paul relented. "But you owe me one, Lennon."

When John had agreed to let Paul release Mary's album first (and had even served up an apology to each Beatle after going around them on Pete's album), it had served to even the score.

Paul had wanted Mary's party to be held at the Post Office Tower restaurant – a perfect place for an album called "Postcard," of course. However, John had somehow sweet-talked Paul into handing over not over the album title, but the venue as well. Mary's party was now being held at one of the Beatles' favorite Indian restaurants – it had enough room and was a rather cosy place to be on a cool fall evening.

Paul proudly steered Mary around the room, introducing her to everyone, and Maggie watched as she answered questions from the press people that were there. There were plenty of famous names in the room from Donovan to Jimi Hendrix. Mick Jagger was also in attendance, much to Chris O' Dell's chagrin.

"Is he gone?"

"Chris, why are you hiding behind my chair?" Maggie said, not really sure what was going on.

"No reason. I just... dropped a contact or something."

"Or something?" Maggie said suspiciously. "Do you even wear contacts?"

"Fine, I'm hiding," Chris admitted, giving a furtive look around before sitting in the chair next to Maggie.

"Why, is Yoko here?" Maggie said, giving a nervous look around herself.

"Of course she is," Chris said. "But I'm flattered that you think Yoko would be interested."

Maggie snorted in laughter at that.

"No, I saw her tailing Donovan," said Chris waving her arms vaguely in the direction of the buffet table. "He was just trying to get some Tikki Masala, and bam, there she was with a plate of naan for him. He couldn't shake her."

"Poor son-of-a-bitch." Maggie shook her head.

"Yes, Godspeed, Donovan. Godspeed," Chris said, raising her glass in toast.

"What are we toasting, luv?" George asked as he sat down in the empty seat next to Chris.

"That Donovan manages to make an escape from Yoko," Maggie said, filling him in on the conversation. "But Chris still hasn't said why she's hiding from Mick."

"Mick, eh?" said George. "Why would she be hiding from him?"

"It's Mick." Maggie said, as if that should be reason enough.

Chris shook her head. "He's got a girlfriend. I turned him down and now it's awkward between us a bit. I mean, it was fun for a night, but I'm just not interested in being his piece on the side."

"How could anyone consider you to be just a piece on the side," George said soothingly. "I mean, if I weren't married…"

Maggie's eyebrows raised.

"You know, to the Beatles…" He winked at her and she stuck her tongue out at him. George stuck his tongue out back at her and then put a consoling arm on Chris' shoulder.

"What are we talking about, then," Pattie said, wandering up to the table, her eyes solidly on the location of George's arm.

Pattie wasn't typically the jealous type, but Beatles wives were notoriously on guard when it came to their husbands and other women. And with good cause.

"Chris was hiding from Mick," Maggie told Pattie.

"A wise choice, that," she said. She plunked herself down on George's lap causing him to move his arm from Chris in order to keep his wife from sliding off.

Maggie was silent, trying to parse the body language between everyone present. Chris was clearly more interested in winning Pattie over than she was George, but Pattie was more interested in keeping her husband to herself. George seemed largely clueless of all of this. i_Typical/i,_ thought Maggie.

"Who needs a drink?" she said, finally, breaking the silence. She stood up. "What are you guys drinking? Whatever it is, I'll go get more."

"I'll come help you carry them," Chris said, jumping up.

With drink orders given, Maggie and Chris headed up to the bar.

"Is Pattie mad at me?" Chris whispered to Maggie. "I swear I'm not after George. He was just being friendly."

"Oh, I know." Maggie replied. "It's just that the Beatles are not exactly famous for being faithful to their wives. So naturally they're all suspicious when it comes to other women. Mo thought I was after Ringo for ages."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It took something like two years for her to get over that notion."

Chris looked wistfully at Pattie and George, who looked happily entwined together. "I hope it doesn't take Pattie as long." She looked at Maggie, embarrassed. "I was just always a big fan. I never thought I'd get to meet her."

"I understand. Believe me. Just give her time. Or, maybe just come out and tell her that you're not into George."

"I'll think about it, Chris said. "Oh God, there he is, hide me!" she said suddenly. She ducked behind the bar, startling the bartender into dropping the lime he was holding. Maggie laughed at Chris, crouching uncomfortably, trying to make sure her short skirt wasn't revealing too much. The laugh died in her throat when she saw a small black figure chasing after Donovan, who was brandishing his guitar in an effort to ward her off. He wasn't watching where he was going and they were on a collision course for John, who was talking to Paul and not paying attention.

"Chris, gotta go!" Maggie called towards the bar. If Donovan and Yoko hit into John and Paul, there was going to be carnage – and it was up to her to stop it.

Chris sat nervously at the kitchen table at Kinfauns. It was very late but she was still wired. Maggie had invited her to Mary Hopkin's album release party and she'd mostly had a great time. Except she'd been force to hide from Mick in order to avoid any awkward encounters. And then Pattie had thought she was interested in George and acted very possessive of him. She genuinely liked George. It was hard not to. He was moody, no doubt, but he was very funny and could be very kind and generous. But she wasn't into him THAT way. In fact, Pattie was the one she wanted to get to know better. But she'd already had one embarrassing conversation with her over dinner, where she'd sounded like a total fan. There hadn't been much opportunity to correct that impression.

But tonight, George had drunk way too much and Pattie needed help getting him home. Maggie, knowing how Chris felt, had insisted that Chris help Pattie out with George. They had plenty of room, did they not? Surely, Chris could stay over and Maggie could run over in the morning and pick her up.

So here she was, at Pattie and George's house. They'd managed to get George into bed, though Chris had gone into the kitchen to wait while Pattie got him undressed. Pattie would be there soon, though, and then what? Chris wasn't sure.

"Would you like some tea?" asked Pattie politely, as she came through the kitchen door.

"Everything settled?" Chris asked.

"Fine, thanks." She paused a moment. "And thank you for your help."

"No problem." Chris watched Pattie bustle around the kitchen, filling up a kettle with water. "I'm sorry you're stuck with a house guest."

"It's no trouble. Maggie's supposed to run you home tomorrow morning."

"Maybe we could all get brunch together or something," Chris suggested tentatively, the words nearly getting stuck in her throat.

"Maybe," Pattie said coolly. She put two teacups on the table and went to fetch the hot water.

"Have I done anything wrong?" Chris asked.

"Of course not, why?" Pattie said, pouring the water and carefully avoiding Chris' gaze.

"I just feel like you don't like me very much. But I really want to be your friend."

Pattie poured the hot water carefully. And then sat down, watching her tea steep. "It's not that I don't like you. It's just that... how do I say this? It's not easy being married to a Beatle. You never know whom to trust. There are lots of people that want to use you for your fame."

"But..." Chris protested, but Pattie cut her off with a wave of her hand.

"I know you're not one of them. And Maggie likes you, so that's ok."

"Then what is it?"

"I'll be blunt," Pattie said. "If you let George have you, then we can't ever be friends."

Chris looked at Pattie wide-eyed. "I'm not interested in going to bed with George, Pattie. I'd rather be your friend."

Pattie met her eyes finally and then nodded. "All right then. Now, drink your tea before it gets cold." She nudged the cup towards Chris with a tentative smile.

Chris smiled back at Pattie and took a sip of the tea. "Oh, this is good! What kind is it?"

"A special blend I get at a farmer's market. Maybe we can stop there tomorrow after brunch and have a look around," Pattie said, trying to sound off-hand.

"It's a plan," said Chris with a grin. She loved working at Apple and with the Beatles, but she was starting to think the amazing women she'd been lucky enough to meet through them was the best part of it all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for your continued patience, as we juggle life, travel, and a million other things! And NEXT time we'll find out what happens at Pete's party. See you next time!


	16. Chapter Sixteen

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

As promised, Maggie had come out to Escher to join Pattie and Chris for brunch and some shopping at a local farmer's market. They'd also been joined by Twiggy, who was very close with Pattie, the two of them having modeled together many times. It was still weird for Maggie to be around people she'd only seen images of in the past (and many years from now).

Twiggy was one of those in what Maggie thought of as the Beatles outer circle. There was the inner circle, which was mainly the Beatles and their wives, plus a few trusted friends, mostly from the old days. Mal. Neil. John's boyhood friend, Pete Shotton. And a few people from the Hamburg days like Astrid Kirchherr and Klaus Voorman.

Then there was the outer circle, those who, unlike the many other hangers on, were actually welcome to stop in at the studio or at Apple. They were considered friends, but they weren't privy to things the Beatles kept private, like why they left India in such a rush. Or who Maggie really was. This outer circle included other musicians the Beatles were friendly with, like the Stones, Marianne Faithful, Jimmy Hendrix, Donovan, and Eric Clapton. But there were also other famous personalities from the 60s that socialized in the Beatles' outer circle – a few artists, writers, and of course, models like Twiggy, who Maggie was pleased to find was a total sweetheart.

Maggie couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious around the slender model, but at least she had the excuse of being pregnant. Though she'd met Twiggy several times, she'd never had the opportunity to hang out with her at any length. Over brunch, she and Chris were treated to stories from the days when Twiggy and Pattie had modeled together. It had surprised Maggie to learn that they did all their own make-up on shoots, even ones for famous magazines.

"Come on, Pattie, do another shoot with me," Twiggy urged, putting her teacup down suddenly.

"I don't think George would like it very much," Pattie said a little wistfully.

"I've got a shoot coming up for Vogue – I'm sure we'd get the cover," Twiggy teased.

"It's so tempting, but… George…"

Maggie watched the conversation with equal parts amusement and horror. Twiggy's confidence about landing on the cover of Vogue was admirable, but so foreign to anything Maggie knew in her previous life. It was no wonder Maggie often thought her new life a dream. Hanging out with the rich and famous, and finding many of them to be genuinely nice people, was too good to be true. Of course, even in this living fantasy, sexism was still clearly alive and well. Maggie couldn't help butting into the conversation. "I think you should do it, Pattie. Don't let George control how you live your life. A marriage should be an equal partnership. Not one person telling the other person what to do all the time."

Pattie sighed. "I love George, I do. But I also really loved modeling. How angry do you think he'd be?"

"Hard to say. But I think you should just let him be angry. He'll get over it. Look how John has mellowed." Maggie said.

"The effect you've had on him is amazing," Twiggy said, taking a sip of tea. "No offense, but John is not a good drunk. And the stories I used to hear about him and Cynthia..." She looked at Maggie speculatively to see how she would react.

"No offense taken." It's not like Maggie could deny any of his past bad behavior. She shook her head. "And you're right. John is a terrible drunk. But I think he's finally come to see that he and excessive alcohol do not mix. And as for Cynthia... well, I think he had some time to do some thinking about how he treated her after she dumped him. That said, maybe when the right two people get together, they both become better people because of it. I think I've gotten some of John's bluntness, both for better and for worse. He's taught me to just come right out and say what I think. Of course, that often gets me in trouble."

"Or other people. Like Pattie!" Twiggy said with a smile. She turned to Pattie. "Darling, we all think you should do it."

Pattie was silent for a minute and then looked at Maggie "What if George isn't the right person for me, then? Because I love him, but I'm not sure it's made either of us a better person. I'm lonely and unhappy, and I never know what he's about half the time."

"Do you have someone else in mind?" Maggie asked lightly, wondering if Pattie and Clapton's doomed romance might be appearing earlier than it should.

"No, no." Pattie blushed and Maggie gave her a sharp look. "Not really. I don't know. Maybe I just need to do something for me for a change and let the consequences be damned. I like having fun, you know. George can stay at home, but not me… That's it, I'm breaking out!" she said defiantly.

Maggie smiled at that but felt a bit sick. Clearly the seeds of discontent were already there, but Maggie didn't want to help Pattie and George break up if there was a chance they could work through their problems. Still, she had meant what she said. George didn't have a right to force his wife to stop working, even if that was the norm in this time.

"That a girl!" Twiggy grinned.

"I'll do it! Let's do Vogue!" Pattie said, clapping her hands and looking flushed with excitement.

_Just like that_, Maggie thought. _A Vogue cover._ Crazy.

Judging from Chris' silence throughout this conversation, Maggie suspected she felt a bit out of her depth too. For all Chris' breezy acceptance of whatever came her way, surely even she must feel out of place at times. Chris might not have known it, but Maggie had only had a couple short years more experience with this crowd than she did.

Still, Chris regularly saw famous people coming and going at Apple. Apple was a weird mix of business and pleasure, and of social circles. Outside of the omnipresent Mal and Neil, there were other people from back in Liverpool and the Beatles' early days in London that worked at Apple, and trod that narrow line between employee and friend, like Peter Asher and Peter Brown. Tony Bramwell was another one of these. He'd grown up with the Beatles in Liverpool, worked for Brian Epstein, and now worked doing record promotion at Apple and dating Mary Hopkin to boot. He was one of Maggie's senior staff and she enjoyed the way he livened up meetings, though he hadn't truly endeared himself to Maggie until she overheard him refer to Yoko as the "Princess of Darkness."

Maggie often found the job of balancing fun and work at Apple difficult. She knew the company would never survive if it were as hedonistic as she'd read Apple had been back before Alan Klein had axed everyone. But she also wanted it to have a laid back atmosphere. Sometimes she felt like she was continually leaning too hard one way or the other. EMI, on the other hand, was much more formal than Apple was, though the Beatles kept their sessions fairly casual.

The recording engineers and producers at EMI were another layer around the Beatles, one step further removed, and definitely treated more as employees than friends, something Maggie never quite understood this, given the large amount of time the band had spent in the studio.

Early on, she'd gone out of her way to befriend George Martin and a string of others who'd worked their way up the EMI chain to engineer or producer, like Geoff Emerick, Norman Smith, Chris Thomas, and Ken Scott. Ken was someone Maggie had become quite friendly with recently since, other than George Martin, Ken was the one doing the lion's share of the work on the White Album. Ken was always professional at the studio, and the few times joints had come out, he'd seemed uncomfortable. Though she'd seen Ken drink, she got the feeling that he didn't approve of taking drugs on studio time. This was possibly because for once the Beatles had an actual deadline.

The Beatles had never before had a real time schedule. Even if they were producing albums fairly frequently by modern standards, the Beatles usually took as long as they wanted for a project. It was done when they felt it was done. This time, though, their album would be released on Apple Records. Though Apple had put out smaller albums from selected artists, this was the first time a Beatles album would be coming out on the label. The album was taking longer than normal, mostly because the band had decided to make it a double album, but also because they kept coming up with new last minute songs. The release couldn't be delayed because so much promotion had already been scheduled and because George was due to fly out to Capitol in LA with the masters for the American version of the album. There was a lot of pressure on everyone to finish the project soon. Maggie was just glad it would have to be done before the baby was due.

The band was spending long (and often odd) hours at work in the studio. EMI might be formal, but the Beatles did what they wanted. Maggie knew they'd flouted the strict rules more times than could be counted. And now that it was the late 60s, fashion had also dramatically changed and they showed up to record in ties and jackets no longer. Hippie style ruled – but only for the bands. Maggie was never sure whether it was because he was required, or because he was trying to make up for how the Beatles looked, but Ken was always impeccable in his 3-piece suits.

Maggie had slowly started to adopt what was for her a more flamboyant way of dressing. This was partly because now she had the money to buy whatever she wanted or have it custom made for her, and partly due to Pattie's influence. Pattie had a real eye for fashion, perhaps because of her years as a model - and though Maggie didn't have her tall, leggy figure, Pattie had a knack for picking out things that would suit her.

Though Maggie clung to her jeans on weekends or when she was at home, she had to admit that amongst all that was open to her, it was surprisingly easy to find 60s era fashions that she liked. Maternity fashion was a challenge, as so much of it was ugly, but Pattie helped her make it work, finding her garments like flowing caftans that were as comfortable as they were stylish.

Sometimes Maggie would catch glimpses of herself and it would take her a second to realize whom she was seeing. She could hardly recognize herself, between the clothes and the baby bump. Would she eventually lose the Maggie that she had been? Or was she still under there somewhere?

Maggie studied herself in the mirror at her office at Apple. Tonight was Pete's album release party. Since she'd be going straight there from work, Maggie was already wearing her party clothes. Today she'd worn a green, sheer, paisley maxi dress with flowing sleeves. To dress her outfit up, she added a few long necklaces and a bright cocktail ring. Between her long hair and the beads, she looked every bit like a fashionable young hippie mother from 1968. Maggie stared at her reflection until her features became just shapes.

"Hi Maggie!" Chris poked her head in the door, startling Maggie out of her reverie.

"Oh, hey. Are you ready to go?" Maggie gave Chris a smile, but it must not have been too convincing.

"You okay?" Chris asked, concerned. "Is it the baby? Do you feel alright?"

"I'm fine, really. Just… thinking about the past. And the future." Maggie closed the cabinet door, hiding the mirror.

"I try not to do that. I like living in the present," Chris said firmly.

"So you never worry about what's ahead of you?"

"Nope! I'm all about the 'now.' The future tends to take care of itself. At least, it always has for me." Chris grinned at Maggie. "Look at me, I'm working for the Beatles, about to hit a party with the woman who runs Apple…"

Maggie couldn't help but smile back. "Well, if you're amazed at where you are, imagine what it's like for me!"

"I've tried, but I'm not sure I can. Honestly, I don't envy you the job. Running this place must be a challenge."

Maggie picked up her coat and started putting it on. "It is, but I love it. Plus it's been keeping my brain from going to mush while pregnant. Which reminds me, I have a question for you." Maggie paused, her coat only partially on. "I know we've become friends, so I don't know if this will be weird or not."

Chris gave Maggie a quizzical look.

"How would you feel about working directly for me? I'm really going to need an assistant, what with the baby coming in a few months. And once I'm on maternity leave, I'm really going to need help figuring out how to run things from afar. I know I can trust you." Maggie got her other arm in the coat and pulled it the rest of the way on.

"Are you kidding, I'd love it! Will Peter Asher be ok with me ditching him for you?"

"He'll be fine, I know someone who can step in as a replacement. Are you sure?"

"Definitely. I was even going to suggest that I might be able to help you once you have the baby. But you beat me to it."

Maggie smiled at that – Chris had found her place at Apple by offering to be helpful, and it seemed she was still trying to fill that role even though she had a real job now. "Great! I'll have my secretary send you an official offer letter detailing salary and benefits and all that. If you have any concerns once you get it, just let me know and we can talk about it."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Chris waved her hand, dismissing Maggie's concerns about hiring her friend, and whether Chris would find the salary fair or whether she would feel Maggie was overpaying her as a favor. "We've got a party to get to."

Maggie studied Chris for a moment. She was wearing a dress Maggie was certain that Pattie had picked out, stylish boots, and had a flower in her blonde hair. Though Chris might not be as adrift as Maggie sometimes felt, Maggie had John to anchor her. John and the baby they were having. Chris was young, single, and had moved to a foreign country on the off chance that a friend might find her a job at Apple. So much uncertainty and Chris didn't seem bothered one bit by any of it. Maybe Maggie should take a page out of her book. After all, Maggie had given up everything for an adventure into the unknown too, hadn't she? It hadn't been perfect (Brian was still a big sore spot) but she was happy here, wasn't she? With the love of her life, wonderful friends, a fulfilling job, and more money than she had ever dreamed of? Maybe she should just relax and let go once in a while.

Maggie shook her head and this time was able to give Chris a real smile. "You're right. Let's go hit that party. I have no idea how it will turn out – it'll definitely be an adventure!"

The party started off well enough. Maggie and Chris arrived at the Post Office Tower restaurant and were immediately greeted by John, who kissed Chris on the cheek politely, and then turned and gave Maggie a long enough kiss that a line of partygoers started forming behind them.

"Hey, get a room," Paul called from several people back. "There's only so much room in this elevator lobby!"

John broke off the kiss and cheerfully waved his middle finger in Paul's direction.

"I think you just flipped off Brian Jones," Chris said doubtfully.

"Oh, John." Maggie just shook her head at him and hauled him away from the entrance.

She gasped when she saw how the restaurant had been decorated. Covering the walls were Astrid's stark black and white photos of the Beatles in Hamburg. They were subtly displayed, but still made a statement about Pete's place in the music world. Centrally displayed was the cover art for Pete's "Postcard" album.

"Do you like it?" John asked anxiously.

"I love it. But what do the others think?"

"I don't know, I didn't ask." John shrugged.

Maggie sighed. The night was going to be full of tension as it was – she didn't know if seeing reminders of the past would make things better or worse. "What about Pete?"

"He teared up when he saw it." John said quietly. "Made me think I had done the right thing."

Maggie couldn't help but agree with him.

"Come say hello!" John said to Maggie.

"All right."

She turned to Chris to invite her along, but Chris shook her head. "You go ahead. Here, I'll take your coat." When Maggie hesitated, Chris said, "Listen to your new assistant. Give me your coat and run along!"

Maggie smiled at that. "Here - thank you!"

Chris smiled back and headed off towards the coat check.

John led Maggie over to Pete, who was standing in a circle with his band. They looked like they felt out of place, even though it was their night. Maggie understood. Most of them were straight out of Liverpool and this room was rapidly filling with rock royalty.

"Pete! How are you? Congratulations on your album." Maggie gave him a hug and a kiss, and then greeted the other musicians.

"I'm well, thanks. And thanks for all this." Pete waved his hand around the restaurant.

"You're quite welcome. We're glad to have you on our label," Maggie said formally. "Now, let me introduce you to some friends."

Maggie grabbed Pete's hand and gestured to his band to follow if they wanted. She dragged Pete and his lead guitarist over to Jimi Hendrix, who was standing near the bar, and introduced them. She watched them shake hands in satisfaction, and then looked around the party to see who else was here. She saw Chris at the door, greeting guests and directing traffic, which made Maggie feel like she had made an excellent decision in hiring her.

Paul and Linda were sitting in a corner, chatting cozily by themselves. If she hadn't known they were already married, she would have thought Paul was trying to pick her up. _Adorable_, Maggie thought to herself. If there were going to be drama tonight, it likely wouldn't come from him. Then she spotted George. He was staring at the photos on the wall with what looked like disbelief and outrage on his face. She excused herself and hurried over to him.

"Hi, George,"

"What are these doing on the wall," he demanded, waving his drink towards Astrid's photo of the band sitting on an abandoned railway car.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking, George," she replied to herself. "Why yes, it is a lovely party. And thank you, your wife helped me pick out this dress. You're so considerate." She gave him a pointed look, and he had the grace to look mildly ashamed.

"How are you, luv? You're looking well this evening." He forced a smile.

Maggie kept her eyes narrowed at him, lips pursed, unimpressed.

He kissed her quickly on the cheek and the mustache he'd recently re-grown tickled her. "Is that better?"

Maggie broke into a smile. "Yes. Now, about the pictures… You're not happy."

"No. These are from the past. That group," he jabbed a finger towards the wall, "doesn't exist any more."

"Yes, but those people do. They're real and they're in this room. You're all a little older, and hopefully wiser. And you've all lived a lifetime since those days. Maybe it's okay to look back once in a while, if only to see how far you've come."

"Stu isn't here."

"In some sense he is," Maggie said. "I know he's still with John. And John's never let go of him."

"John cut Pete off though. And we all followed suit."

"And deep down I think John always regretted the way things went down. John's trying to grow, to be a better person… Let him."

"We're always the ones following Lennon. Like the goddamned pied piper. Never questioning where he leads us."

"You really want to go your own way, don't you, George?" Maggie didn't wait for him to answer. "Don't go too soon. The Beatles have so much more to offer the world."

"Yeah, blood, sweat and tears. Well, I've given all I can spare."

"I was talking about music," she said sadly. George was silent, and finally he looked at his feet, unable or unwilling to make eye contact. "I'll see you later," she said finally. She gave his arm a squeeze before moving back out into the room to mingle some more with their guests.

The party was still in full swing several hours later. Maggie was exhausted but exhilarated from talking to their guests and their friends, many of who were complimentary about Pete's album, which was playing in the background. The press was also present, and Maggie, John, and Pete talked to as many reporters as they could – the coverage was good for Pete and it was also beneficial for Apple. John was in fine form and he easily dodged questions he didn't want to answer. Watching him, Maggie could almost believe she was watching a press conference from 1965. He had a quip for every question, and following his lead, Pete relaxed and started giving equally cheeky answers. They soon had the reporters rolling with laughter and the mood in the room was light and friendly.

At least until she heard raised voices coming from over near the bar. She looked around, alarmed, trying to figure out who was causing the disturbance.

"Look, man, leave me alone! I'm trying to get a drink here. You're the third one to try to get something out of me, and it's not going to happen," George was snapping at a reporter.

"I just wanted to know how you felt about being at a party for your old bandmate," Maggie could hear the reporter saying as she drew closer to the scene.

"Fine, it's fine." George turned away, trying to cut off any more questions.

"Do you feel bad for firing Pete Best all those years ago?" the reporter persisted.

Maggie cringed. George wasn't going to like that. She debated whether she should try to deflect the reporter, but wasn't sure whether she would make the scene better or worse.

"Why don't you bugger off," George demanded, voice raised.

"Give me a quote and I'll leave." Clearly the reporter wasn't going to take no for an answer.

It was time to intervene. Maggie just hoped she could break things up before anything really unpleasant happened.

"Here's a quote, 'Go fu..."

Before he could get any more out, Maggie swooped in and wedged herself between them. She grabbed the reporter's hand and shook it vigorously. "Hi, I'm Maggie, the head of Apple, it's so nice to meet you. What paper are you from?"

"London Evening Standard," he said. "I was hoping to get a statement from Mr. Harrison..."

"Mr. Harrison isn't feeling very well tonight, I'm afraid," Maggie said smoothly. "How about an exclusive interview with Mr. Lennon and myself instead." She led the reporter over to John and introduced them. Glancing back at George, she could see he was leaning on the bar, head in his hands. She wondered how many drinks he'd had so far. She was going to have to cut him off and send him home. He'd been a heartbeat away from throwing his drink at the reporter, which would have made him happy, but been lousy for Apple and the Beatles.

As soon as she was done talking to this reporter, she'd go sort out George. In the meantime, Maggie looked around for Chris, Pattie, or Linda, to see if it was possible to signal one of them to make sure George was ok and that no one else bothered him. Chris looked like she had her hands full though, and she couldn't see where Linda and Paul had gone. Pattie and Eric were sitting in the same spot they were in. Same spot, same flirty scene, different couple. Maggie sighed, wondering if Pattie and Eric's flirting was contributing to George's lousy mood, or if he'd been too upset to even notice.

"What's that?" she looked back the reporter, suddenly realizing she'd missed what he'd said.

"He wanted to know who was going to be in charge of Apple after you've had the baby," John said. He had a strange look on his face, as if he knew Maggie wasn't going to like that question.

"I will, of course," Maggie said sweetly. "Paul's baby is due around the same time ours is, but you don't see anyone asking him about who will be taking his spot in the Beatles when the baby comes, do you?" She laughed, but it was clearly forced. John looked relieved that she hadn't bitten the reporter's head off, which would have been the second time for him that night. "Would you excuse me for a moment?" Now would be a good time for her to get away before she took the drink out of John's hand and splashed it on the reporter.

She headed towards the bar to check on George. There was a blonde woman with her arms around him, and he was looking down at her with a soft expression on his face. But Pattie had been otherwise occupied just a few minutes ago…

George noticed Maggie approaching and gave her a smile. The first one she'd seen on George's face all evening. The woman saw his expression change and looked over her shoulder. It wasn't Pattie, but she still looked so familiar to Maggie.

"Maggie, I'd like you to meet Astrid Kirchherr."

Astrid was as beautiful in person as Maggie had thought she would be. She hadn't changed much since the Hamburg days, except for her hair, which was now shoulder length.

"It's so nice to finally meet you," Maggie said, genuinely pleased to see her here. She remembered that John had invited her, but he hadn't been at all sure she would come. The Beatles all adored Astrid, which was evident from how greatly George's whole bearing had altered since she had shown up.

"It is wonderful to meet you too. I have heard so much about you." Astrid stepped away from George and gave Maggie a kiss on each cheek.

"And I've heard a lot about you too," Maggie said totally truthfully. "I love your photos of the Beatles. I hope you don't mind that we've displayed them here."

"They look very nice and I am flattered."

"Aren't they great?" said George.

"What? But you were so..."

"...so happy to see them up," George interrupted her.

"But..." Maggie still didn't know what to make of George's change of attitude. Astrid was looking confused too.

"George wasn't sure they were appropriate for the event," Maggie said to Astrid, ignoring George eyes, which were now shooting darts at her.

"It is possible they are not," Astrid shrugged. "But I imagine they will make people talk, which I do not think is a bad thing."

"I agree," Maggie said. "Pete was really touched by them. I think he liked seeing that he was still a part of Beatles history even if he's not a Beatle anymore."

"I am very glad. And no, he cannot truly be erased. The Beatles have changed, but for me, they will always be those boys in leather I first saw in Germany."

"I envy you," Maggie admitted. "I so wish I could have seen them play in Hamburg."

"You would have loved it. And you would have loved John, even if he was a wild and naughty boy back then."

"He still is," Maggie smiled. "Well, he has grown up a little, though he'd never admit it. And what about our George?" Maggie asked. "What was he like back then?"

"Quiet. Much as now. But oh, I have lots of stories about him."

George looked alarmed which made both women laugh.

"Later," Maggie said. "I hope you'll come stay with John and I while you're in London. We have plenty of room, and I'd love to get to know you better."

"If I am not in the way?"

"Not at all."

"Hullo, Astrid," came a voice from behind Maggie. The whole group turned to look at Pete, who was standing there uncertainly.

"Pete. How lovely to see you. Congratulations on your album. I think it is wonderful."

"Thanks, Astrid."

Maggie sniffed a little as she watched the two old friends embracing as if the years between them were gone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading! And being patient! For a great look at the Beatles during this time period, I recommend reading Tony Bramwell's hilarious book. I swear his Yoko is not a lot different than ours, even though Tomorrow Never Knows was written before I read his book!  
>"Magical Mystery Tours: My Life with the Beatles"<p>

Ken Scott's book is fantastic too, especially if you are interested in the recording process.  
>"Abbey Road to Ziggy Stardust: Off-the-record with The Beatles, Bowie, Elton, and so much more."<p> 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17<strong>

After the album release shindig ended, the Beatles and their close friends retired to John and Maggie's house for an after party. The alcohol continued to flow and so did the stories. Maggie knew smoking of all kinds was inevitable so she simply shooed smokers out to the back porch. The backyard, such as it was, was screened in with trees and a heavy fence, and Maggie didn't think even pot smoke would be detectable out there. The evening was cold, however, so after a few puffs, the smokers would give up and come back inside. The result was that no one got more than a comfortable buzz, and the mood of the party stayed very mellow.

Maggie caught John sneaking back inside at one point, at which she just shook her head and wagged her finger. He gave her a sheepish grin. "I was just making sure our guests were all right outside, wasn't I?"

"I'm sure you were being an excellent host," she said, her mouth quirking up in amusement, as she purposefully played dumb.

"Well, you know me – I'm always looking out for others." John gestured towards a few party guests who were lingering in the kitchen.

"I know – that's what I love about you." Her smile got wider.

"All right, you've busted me. I admit it." He hung is head in shame, though Maggie knew he wasn't for a second truly ashamed for taking a few puffs of pot.

Maggie laughed at John's hangdog expression. "Oh, it's fine. It's a party. Everyone is so happy and in such good moods tonight that I don't care if we owe it partially to pot. So have a good time. I'm not going to be a buzzkill tonight, especially if people are willing to keep the smoke outside."

John grinned at that and made a big show of going around the kitchen and living room, offering snacks and refills of their drinks, all while giving Maggie surreptitious winks.

Things finally wound down at sunup and their guests either found places in the house to crash, or wandered with Paul back to his Cavendish Ave. house.

"I can't believe I was here for this," she couldn't help telling John later, when they were in bed. "A party with 5 of the original Beatles, plus Astrid… I would have killed just to be a fly on the wall, and I'm sure there are other Beatle fans who happily would do the same."

"You weren't just 'there,' luv," John replied. "You're a part of it now. The mythology." He made a bit of a face.

"I see you've accepted that the Beatles now have a mythology."

"I still don't know if I like it, but I'm not sure I can deny it, can I?" He sat up, mushed his pillows until they were in a comfortable shape, and then lay back down, facing his wife.

"No, you can't. But I still don't feel a part of it."

"You don't? You're the head of Apple records. You're married to the Beatles' most handsome member…" John paused to preen causing Maggie to laugh at him. "…and you're carrying the heir to rock royalty." He gently placed a hand on her protruding stomach. "Sorry, luv, but you are in it neck deep."

Maggie laughed. "I know that. Logically, I mean? But no matter how real it is, it's still completely unreal."

"Will it ever feel real?"

"I don't know," she said honestly. "But if it is all a dream, it's one I want to stay in forever." She put her hand over John's and gently twisted the wedding band on his finger. His ring felt very real to her, but she still wasn't sure how this could possibly be. No matter how long she was here and how entrenched in the Beatles' lives she became, the scientist she used to be still sat in the back of her mind, telling her that this was all impossible.

"I won't ever let you go, don't worry," John said, taking Maggie in his arms and kissing her sweetly.

Astrid stayed on for another few days, as a guest of John and Maggie. Though it had taken a while for Astrid to relax and be certain that Maggie wasn't jealous of her presence, after a while she had, and Maggie had enjoyed the resulting conversations.

The truth was, Maggie wasn't jealous of Astrid. She was too in awe for such a base emotion. The beautiful blonde had always been a bit of an icon for Maggie and she'd often imagined what it might have been like to see the Beatles while they were in Germany. She'd pictured herself dressed all in black, sitting with Astrid, Klaus, and the other exis, watching the band run around stage. Despite their horrible living conditions, Maggie suspected that this might have been the most carefree time the band had ever known. Or possibly would ever know.

And Astrid had actually been there. Maggie wanted to know every last detail. Though she hesitated to bring up Stu. Even John was a little raw still as far as Stu was concerned and she wasn't sure Astrid would want to talk about him. But ultimately she did.

"It really changed John, you know, losing Stuart," Astrid told Maggie, one morning over tea, when John was still in bed. "He was never the same after. But you know this. You have seen the pictures, yes?"

"The ones you took of John in Stu's studio, after…"

"Yes, those." Astrid was quiet for a moment. "John… he puts up a tough front, yes? But inside…"

"Yeah, he has a lot of vulnerability and insecurity underneath all that sarcasm and wit," Maggie said stirring her tea idly. Though John was complex, she felt she knew him better than she had ever known anyone else. Not only had John let Maggie see what was inside him, she'd had the perhaps unfair advantage of having read books analyzing his personality.

"He has been hurt a lot. And because of this he strikes out and tries to hurt others. Even Stuart, who he loved."

"And Cynthia, who he loved," Maggie added.

Astrid paused with the teacup part-way to her lips in surprise at what Maggie had said so freely. "This does not bother you? To talk about John's first wife."

"Not at all. Cynthia and I are friends, and she has a happy life now. She's a part of John's past, a part of Beatles history, and… well, I always felt bad for her. John hurt her pretty badly."

"But she had her revenge, did she not? It is said that she is the one that left him!"

"Yep. I never knew she had it in her. But I say good for her."

"And good for you?" Astrid gave Maggie a quick speculative look before finally taking a sip from her cup.

"Well, ultimately, yes. Plus I think it was good for John to have someone stand up to him."

"He respects that," Astrid agreed.

"He does. Sometimes I do think it's a shame that they couldn't work things out. From what I've read… I mean, heard, Cynthia really saved John after his mother died. And I really do believe he loved her - no matter what anyone says."

"Loved maybe, but perhaps not respected. They are two different things, yes? And both are important."

"Do you think John respected Stu?" Maggie said, curious.

"I think so. In a way Stuart stood up to John when he told him he was staying in Hamburg with me, and leaving the band. John was not happy. But ultimately I think he understood."

"I think John respects you."

"Do you?" Astrid looked around the cheerful kitchen in a way that made Maggie wonderful if it Astrid felt out of place in it. It was a far cry from Astrid's black and silver room in Hamburg, though she was unsure if Astrid's tastes still ran in that direction.

"Yes, are you kidding? The Beatles all adore you. You are like family. Probably because you knew them before they were famous and so they trust you. There aren't that many people in that category."

"I sense they trust you too, and as more than John's wife. I cannot put my finger on exactly why. I don't mean that as an insult," Astrid said quickly. "But as you have said, it is easier to trust those who knew them before they had fame."

"And I don't fit that."

"No, and I do know that they do not open up to a lot of people. And not only that, but you appear close with all of them, especially George. Yet John does not seem jealous over this. He was always jealous over Cynthia."

"Maybe he's changed?"

"Maybe. Hmm – is there a secret about them that you know?" Astrid said slyly

"Maybe it's the other way around – maybe I have a secret they know!" Maggie would have liked to have jumped up at this and busied herself with clearing the tea dishes and cups, but she was far too pregnant to be able to escape the conversation that easily.

Astrid was kind though, and sensing her discomfort, simply replied, "Or perhaps it goes both ways? Whatever it is, I am glad the boys have someone else they can trust, and I am glad that John has someone he clearly loves very much, someone who is an equal partner."

"Thank you," Maggie said, truly touched.

"And maybe someday, I will learn your secrets," Astrid smiled angelically at her.

"Maybe," Maggie replied and gave Astrid an enigmatic smile back.

"Tell me about Maggie," Astrid commanded George once they were seated in the back booth at a quiet restaurant that was near to EMI. She held up a cigarette for George to light. He picked a matchbook up from the table and obliged her. "Would you like one?" she asked, offering him the pack.

"No, thanks, I've quit." He shook the match out and dropped it in the ashtray.

"Since when?"

George absent-mindedly put the matchbook in his jacket pocket. "Since a while ago. They're bad for you."

"According to who?"

"Maggie."

"Ah. The girl with the strange hold on you."

"On me?"

"On all of you. But yes, you." Astrid blew out a short puff of smoke. "You gave up cigarettes because she asked you to?"

George struggled for a way to answer Astrid without giving up Maggie's time traveling past and what she knew of his future. "She's read a lot of science and health stuff, you see. And I didn't fancy cancer. So I try not to smoke anymore, especially around Maggie and Linda, since apparently smoke is bad for pregnant women too." He sat back, relieved he had found an appropriate excuses for not lighting up.

"Do you mind me smoking, then?"

"Not at all, it smells great," George said a little wistfully.

"Hmm," said Astrid.

"Look, it's not like Maggie made me stop – it was my choice. She… she's smart. And she looks out for all of us," he floundered.

"How does she know what is best?"

"Like, I said, she's smart." George said, not meeting Astrid's eyes. "Did you know that she has an astrophysics degree?" he said, trying to change the subject.

"And this makes her a health expert."

"Well, it's all, you know, science," George said, waving his hand in the air vaguely.

"You like her," Astrid said, semi-accusedly.

"Of course I do, we're best friends."

"And John is ok with this."

"Maggie loves John. And I love Pattie," George added quickly. "There's nothing between Maggie and I. John knows all that."

"Hmm."

"Stop 'hmming,' would you?" George said irritably.

Astrid laughed at this. "Oh my George, my little brother. You know it is only because I care."

"Thanks, Astrid. But you don't have to worry. I'm good, things are good. Maggie… she makes John better. He's much easier to be around. And she makes sure Paul listen to me, well, sometimes. We're getting loads done in the studio…"

"She pulls a lot of weight, this girl…"

"She does… I can't really explain why."

"She's a fan. You have never let a fan in like this before."

"She is a fan, but she's more than that. Do you know that the first time we met, she was more interested in my guitar than she was in me? I'd never met a bird like that before. And I think it was practically love at first sight for John. Paul hated her at first – but they called a truce when he was trying to make time with Maggie's best friend. Linda," George clarified.

"Your girl is a mystery."

"What girl isn't?" George demurred. "And she's not mine."

"Hmm."

George rolled his eyes and looked around desperately looking for a waiter.

Astrid just gave him a grin, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

* * *

><p>AN Thanks for your patience in waiting for this story! Clearly we took much longer than a week. Sorry!


	18. Chapter Eighteen

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18<strong>

"Hi Ken." Maggie waved up at the control room as she, Chris, and Pattie walked into Studio 2. "We've got food!" She pointed at the bags the other girls were carrying. Ken nodded and waved back, and then came down the stairs to meet them.

It was 5pm, a little early for dinner, but she knew the boys would be tumbling into the studio within the hour, ready to work all night, and she wanted to be sure everyone ate.

Plus, with the end of the work on the White Album in sight, John had been especially busy and if she wanted to see her husband, she knew this was the best bet.

Ken helped the girls set up the food at the table in the back and then helped himself. He'd be on the clock once the first of the band showed up. And he'd barely taken a bite when the first Beatle came through the door.

'Hello, what's this?" Paul came nearer so he could peer down and her and the dinner offerings..

"Dinner."

"Indian again?" Paul wrinkled his nose and held up his hand. "I know, I know, it's George's favorite." He rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion.

"It's your favorite too, silly boy. Now come have some nice curries."

"I'll get some later. I want to warm up some first." Paul waved his hand dismissively at the food, though Maggie knew it was just for effect.

"Suit yourself!" Maggie picked up a fork and made a show of eating a mouthful of vegetable curry. "Yum, this is SO good."

Paul snorted in amusement. "Now you've got curry all over your face."

"I do not!" Maggie grabbed a napkin and wiped at her chin.

"No, no, you missed it." He pointed at her forehead, and then Maggie knew he was having her on, since she couldn't possibly have gotten curry there.

"Go play your guitar." She playfully shoved him away and turned back to the food - it really was just as delicious as it smelled. Before helping herself to more though, Maggie busied herself with cleaning up the lids from the takeout containers and making sure Ken had gotten enough to eat before he had to head up to the control room.

There were comforting studio noises going on in the background. The buzzing of amplifiers, tuning of guitar strings, strumming that changed in tone as Paul switched randomly between the pick-ups on his guitar.

He was still the only Beatle here, something not terribly surprising, as he was often the first to show up. Besides living close by, he liked having time to play around before the others arrived and interrupted his peace.

Maggie listened to him noodle a few riffs as she grabbed the container of butter chicken and sat down - and then almost dropped it when she heard something incongruously familiar.

"What did you just play? Play that again!" She shot to her feet, as quickly as her pergnant girth would allow.

Chris, reacting quickly, grabbed the sauce-filled container from Maggie's hand, before she could spill any on the floor.

Paul was looking up at Maggie, puzzled by her intensity.

She drew nearer. "Seriously, Paul, play that again."

Paul looked down at his guitar and played a riff.

"No, not that." Maggie shook her head. "You're doing it wrong. Play it like you did before."

"I don't remember what I did before." He tried again, not quite nailing the melody that was so familiar to Maggie.

"Yes, you do. Now play it like you did before. Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah nah, nah nah…" Maggie sang at him.

"Oh, like that. Sure." Paul's fingers flew over the fretboard as he easily repeated the notes Maggie had given him. "That's quite nice, isn't it?" He played it over again several times, ultimately flipping the switch on his guitar to a setting that gave him a more distorted sound.

After a few more repetitions, he looked up and saw that Maggie was grinning at him.

"I just wrote a Beatles song, didn't I?" he stage-whispered at her.

"Yep."

"You cheated!"

"Did not – you played the riff first. Now make a song out of it!"

"All right, let me play around with it. Why don't you go have some nice curries?" Paul said with a wink. He went off into a corner and Maggie returned to the table to finish her aborted attempt at making herself a plate of food.

She'd managed to get scoop some butter chicken over the rice on her plate when the noise of the other Beatles coming into the studio distracted her again.

"Let me do that." Chris grabbed the container from her for a second time.

"Sorry," Maggie said sheepishly.

"Here's another napkin." Chris held one out to Maggie. "Now go say hello to your husband. I'll put a plate together for you."

"But…"

"I'm the assistant, so let me assist," she said firmly, pushing Maggie towards in the direction of John.

"Hello, luv." John gave Maggie a big hug and a kiss. "How was your day?"

"Good, how about you?" Maggie knew full well that John had probably gotten up no more than two hours ago. She ruffled his hair affectionately and gave him another kiss in the tip of his long nose.

"Excellent. I had quite an, um, engaging dream," John whispered, pulling her into him. "Perhaps I can tell you, or rather show you, more later."

Maggie's knees felt a little weak at his words and at the feel of his warm breath on her ear. If he said another word, she was simply going to have to drag him into an empty studio and have him right now. She looked up to see he was laughing at her reaction, which had been obvious to him. _Damn Beatles_, she thought to herself. _They clearly know the effect they have on women._

"Later." John winked, giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek. He wandered off to where Paul was still diligently noodling on his guitar, teasing a song out of a single riff.

Maggie smiled as she watched them, and then started a bit when she felt another pair of masculine arms wrap around her. She shifted around until only her protruding stomach separated her from George Harrison.

"Sorry to startle you, luv." George dropped his arms from around her, but then took her hands, grasping them gently.

"All right. Hungry. As always. Ooh!" Maggie exclaimed, dropping George's hands and putting them on her stomach.

"Is it kicking?"

"Yes! Oh, feel!"

Maggie grabbed George's hand again, putting it on her stomach right where the baby was moving around.

"That's amazing!" A big lopsided grin took over his face. The two of them stayed together, still touching for a minute longer, and then broke apart a little awkwardly. They'd never been shy about affectionate physical contact in the past, but for some reason this seemed more intimate. And Maggie had to admit that since their drunken night together, things had been different. They weren't as easy with each other as they had been before. Maggie wasn't sure exactly what had changed, but something had. Maybe once you kiss, or admit physical attraction, you can never go back from it. They'd always been just friends before. But what had happened between them that night had opened some door that couldn't easily be closed. Even if neither of them wanted to step through it again. Then there was the simple fact that George was a Beatle. And a Beatle could charm the pants off of any women, married or single. This thought made Maggie feel better. It wasn't just her. Any woman would swoon in the presence of a Beatle.

"I'd better go get tuned up." George gave her a peck on the cheek and a cheeky grin, and Maggie felt their familiar dynamic restored for the time being. Maggie watched as he wandered off over the others, and saw the expression on his face shift slightly as he took in Paul and John, the two-headed monster, writing another hit that he probably wouldn't be a part of.

Maggie let Chris put a plate of food in her hands, and even the savory butter chicken (one of her favorite dishes) wasn't enough to distract her from watching the Beatles write a song she already knew, from watching their dynamics, and from hoping once again, that they would survive as a band.

Firmly putting melancholy thought aside, Maggie did her best to enjoy the evening, watching the song come together, and laughing as they finally decided it was to be a birthday song. They'd never really done a themed song like that, and they loved the idea that people might use it for birthday celebrations, or that musicians might cover it at their shows when the need arose.

Maggie smiled even harder when Paul spontaneously made the band crowd into one of the offices with acoustic guitars so he could ring Linda up to play it for her. Linda's birthday was in less than a week, and Paul's gift of the song to her gave the it new meaning for Maggie.

After the 20th take, John looked at his watch. "Let's take a break! 'The Girl Can't Help It' comes on at 9." Everyone agreed, and putting things on hold for a few hours, they all trooped over to Paul's house, which was the closest.

It amused Maggie to see them all so bound to a TV schedule. Though she had been in the 60s for nearly 2 years, she still felt as if she was merely on vacation from her TiVo, even if that wasn't really true. Still, she remembered when she was little and looked forward to seeing the special broadcasts of 'The Sound of Music" and 'The Wizard of Oz." If you missed it, you'd have to wait another full year.

'The Girl Can't Help It" wasn't exactly 'The Wizard of Oz" but it was the first time it was being screened on TV in the UK, and it was a rock and roll 'classic,' starring Jayne Mansfield, a starlet they all loved – and it also had guest appearances by Little Richard, Eddie Cochran, and Gene Vincent. Maggie wasn't sure which had more appeal to them, the buxom blonde (whom John had once snogged) or the boys' rock idols. It was a little hard for Maggie not to be jealous. In the state she was in right now, there was no way to compete with the glamorous figure cut by Jayne.

But Maggie felt better when the band gave John a good ribbing over that night at the Whiskey-a-go-go, which had happened way back in 1964. That was one thing she could rely on the Beatles for – to take each other down unmercifully when needed.

After the movie, it was back to the studio. With Ken's help, take 19 was selected as the best one. Paul and John quickly refined the lyrics and dubbed them over the musical track they'd recorded. Maggie, Pattie, and Chris were invited to join in the backing vocals and also provided handclaps.

"I'm in a Beatles song," Maggie thought to herself excitedly. Then she'd had to remind herself of the "A Day In The Life party." She had already been a part of a Beatles track. But this was different; she was singing and clapping on a real Beatles recording. And nothing could dim that excitement.

After the adrenaline faded a bit, though, Maggie felt exhausted. The band still had to do some over dubs of piano and tambourine, as well as mix the track. Pattie stayed to wait for George, but John sent Maggie home in a car. Chris went with her.

"You can stay if you want," Maggie protested.

"That's alright – I'm tired myself," Chris smiled. "I'm going to go bed and the try to relive being on a Beatles song in my dreams."

"That will make two of us," Maggie's own smile was interrupted by a yawn.

Maggie's happiness was dimmed when a few days later, John came home from the studio to report another row between Paul and George.

"What happened?" Maggie asked George on the phone. She'd felt it necessary to call to get his side after hearing John's somewhat garbled version of things. John was still in his head with the song they were currently working on, "Happiness is a Warm Gun", to give Maggie the level of detail she was looking for.

"The usual. Paul being Paul," George replied, the usual acerbic hint present in his voice.

"I thought things were better?

"What would make you think that?"

Maggie paused for a second before replying. "Astrid. You guys were all nostalgic for the good old days and recording "Birthday" was so fun. And you guys made up with Pete… It just seemed that you were all working to put the negative stuff behind you."

George let out a short, bitter laugh. "But it's not the good old days. I'm not 17 years old anymore. I'm 25. I have so many ideas for songs, but Paul won't let me get a fraction of them out."

"I know that you're not who you were in the old days, but you guys still need to find a way to move on together, as you are now. Hasn't Paul been any better?"

Now it was George's turn to think silently. "It is better, yes, but it's not enough. I will never not be a little brother to John and Paul. I'm tired of it."

"But your songs for this album – they're so good. And you have more of your songs represented than ever before."

"I know, you're right. And I should be grateful for it, shouldn't I?"

"That's not what I mean…" Maggie sat heavily down on the couch. The weight of the conversation was almost too much. It was one they'd had many times before, so it was nothing new, but each time she hear George say he wanted more, it made her a little sick. She wanted more for him. But it would break her heart to see the Beatles break up. And before their time. If Abbey Road never happened… The Beatles would still leave a tremendous legacy, but Abbey Road was perhaps the crowning achievement.

George saved Maggie from having to re-explain herself. "I know. It's just that I had this idea for a song when we were working on Piggies. And I played a bit of it for Ken, and he said we should use it. Do you know what my first thought was?

"What?"

"That I should give it to Jackie Lomax as a single."

"Give it away?"

"It'd have a better chance of getting used that way."

"Can you hum a few bars of it?" Maggie asked, curious.

"Oh, you want to see if you recognize it, do you?"

"Well, yeah. It's just that…"

"What?"

"I shouldn't tell you."

"What do you know?" he demanded.

"You've written some great songs already, but there's another one that will be considered one of the Beatles' greatest, and you can't not write it. And if there's even a chance that this is it, you can't give it away."

"I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask."

October of 1968 was spent recording and mixing the rest of the tracks for the White Album, or "The Beatles" as it had been titled by the band. The dynamics in the group stayed relatively stable but Maggie had a feeling George would want a long rest before starting on something new. As it turned out, everyone wanted a break.

"You're going where? When?" Maggie asked Ringo. She'd actually called to talk to Maureen, but Ringo had answered instead and said that Maureen was busy packing for their trip.

"We're going to Sardinia for two weeks. On the 14th."

"But don't you have a session that day? The last one for the new album?"

"They don't need me. They're doing mixing mostly. And Paul and John have a better ear than I do."

"But they're still finishing Savoy Truffle!"

"The drum part is recorded, so my part is done."

"But it's George's song…" Maggie protested again.

Ringo interrupted her gently. "That's right, it's George's song. He doesn't need me."

"Oh, Ringo," Maggie said sadly. "We all need you."

The last Beatles session for the White Album went all night long. Since it would be the last session for a while (though Maggie sincerely hoped it wouldn't be the last one ever), she went and stayed as long as she could. Since Ringo's light-hearted presence would be missing, she felt she needed to be there to help keep the peace.

The session was surprisingly smooth and Maggie let the boys do their work, dozing on the couch in the studio when she got too tired to stay awake any longer.

"Maybe I should bring a mattress in for you," John said jokingly.

"No!" Maggie said it far more forcefully than she meant to.

By 7:30 am, "The Beatles" was done.

And one by one, over the next few days, the band themselves parted company. George flew to LA to do Jackie Lomax's album, and Paul and Linda went to New York to visit family. With Ringo still in Sardinia, that dropped the Beatle population in Britain down to one. To Maggie, despite John's warm and loving presence, this felt lonely indeed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN** The next chapter will have some big developments! Thanks as always for reading - special shoutout to Frodo Potter who always sends us such nice comments, that won't let us reply to. But they're always very appreciated!


	19. Chapter Nineteen

REAL LOVE

Authors: Lovely Rita & Jenny Wren

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of Historical Fiction.

* * *

><p>Chapter 19<p>

Maggie woke up with a start, odd visions of yellow submarines still circling in her head. She must have dreamed about them. Or perhaps it was just the music from her clock radio invading her dreams. Maggie reached over and shut it off, letting the fresh silence wash over her.

Lying back down, she stretched for a moment and then resigned herself to getting up. She sprang out of bed and then nearly tripped on a stuffed animal. It was a small woolly sheepdog. Maggie couldn't remember where she had gotten it. And for a moment, she paused, puzzled. Was there something missing? She ran her hands over her body as if searching through pockets that weren't there for something she was sure had been there before. Maggie peered at herself in the mirror over her dresser, but everything seemed normal. Same long wavy brown hair, same curvy body…

Maggie wandered out to her living room and flipped her flat-screen TV on to catch the weather report. It was summer, wasn't it? And in Washington, DC, the summers were so hot. Suddenly a shiver overtook her. Maybe the air conditioning was up too high. And surely something was missing.

Food, she needed food. She got up and opened the fridge and then started to pull everything out of it. Something was missing. What was it?

Later, at work, she looked up from her Macbook, puzzled. Something felt off. But she was where she was supposed to be, at NASA, working on a paper related to her exoplanet research. Frowning, she turned her attention back to the LaTex program she was using to write her paper.

At lunch, her officemate suggested going for Indian food. As she took a bite of her favorite dish, butter chicken, she paused. What was it that felt so wrong? Nothing seemed to be out of place in her life, which was pretty much the same as it had always been.

At home, Maggie peered into the fridge again, looking for dinner and something else… Whatever it was, it wasn't in the fridge.

She looked up then and saw her Beatles calendar hanging on the kitchen wall and gave a start. John. John was what was missing. She ripped the calendar down off the wall and frantically flipped through it. Every month read 2006. That was right, wasn't it? No, it was wrong. It should be 1968. Shouldn't it? Brown eyes from one of the photos caught hers and she gasped. John! John was missing. And… something else. Something else was missing.

Maggie suddenly fell to her knees gasping. It was hard to breathe. It was like her body was being squeezed. There was no air. Looking down at the ground she saw the calendar with John's face floating in what looked like a pool of blood. She would have screamed if she hadn't mercifully passed out.

"Maggie, Maggie, wake up!"

It was as if the voice was calling her from the other side of an abyss. As if she were lying beneath a few inches of water but was unable to break through to the surface. She waited to see if the voice would call again.

"Come on, luv, wake up. Don't you want to meet your son?"

Son?

Maggie willed her eyes to open.

"That's my girl."

And then suddenly she knew the voice. "John?" she whispered, her voice weak and low.

"I'm right here. Luv, you gave us a scare."

Slowly as Maggie came to, the pieces started falling back into place. She'd gone into labor, had gone into the hospital, and she vaguely remembered pushing and pushing and pushing and then feeling faint, and that was the last thing she remembered.

"What happened?" She tried moving her arm to reach for John. It felt heavy, but the movement was do-able. She felt John grip her hand.

"Complications. You lost a lot of blood and I was terrified we'd lose you. But you're ok. And the baby is ok. It's a boy, by the way."

Suddenly it was as if Maggie's head was magically cleared of the fog that had been there. "A boy? We have a son?"

"Yes, a son!" John smiled tentatively at her.

"And when can I see baby Ringo?"

A look of relief washed over John's face and he gave a great guffaw.

"Why are you laughing, John?" she asked innocently.

"Luv, I'm so glad you're all right that you can name him anything you want."

"Good, because I have a real name all picked out." Maggie had given the baby's name a lot of thought. If it had been a girl, she would have suggested Julia, after John's mum. If it was a boy… Maggie still felt guilty over Sean, the child that would never be born to John and Yoko (at least not if she could help it). But she didn't want to take his name for her own child. It felt wrong somehow. Disrespectful. Finally she'd stumbled on the perfect name. She hoped John would like it too.

"As long as it's not Mick," John said, feigning nervousness.

"It's not Mick," she laughed feeling stronger by the second as did her relief at waking up back in her life in 1968. "Naming babies after their fathers is so cliché."

"Luv, please tell me that this is the painkillers talking." John shook his head at her, but the grin was still on his lips.

"All right, all right, I'll be serious. We can't name him after you since Julian is already technically John Jr. So I think we should name him after your best friend instead. James Paul."

"James Paul Lennon." John was quiet as he thought about it for a minute.

"I thought we could call him Jamie for short."

"I like it."

"I thought you might."

John leaned over and kissed Maggie on the forehead and then on the lips. "Are you ready to meet wee Jamie?"

Was she ready to meet her son, a child that should have never been born, who almost cost Maggie her life, and who Maggie was starting to regard as something of a miracle? Yes, yes she was.

Jamie had been born in the last days of 1968. And Maggie was more than ready to start the new year. She wasn't sure what was ahead – the possibility of the Beatles breaking up always seemed to loom heavily, but she was feeling positive nonetheless. 1969 lay pristine in front of them, ready to be written on. She had a brand-new family, there would be new music, and she would get to witness the moon landing in July. As someone who had worked at NASA and had a PhD in astrophysics, the Apollo 11 landing was something near and dear to her heart, even if she hadn't been born until well after the Apollo program had wrapped up. This was her chance to see it first-hand. And her husband was famous. She might be able to finagle meeting some of the astronauts. Sure, there was still a war going on, and social change was slow, but 1969 was an exciting time to be alive.

"Knock, knock, is anyone home?" Paul called as he let himself, Linda, and little Heather into John and Maggie's house. Linda looked ready to pop. She and Maggie had been due within a week of each other, so her baby would surely be here any day now. Maggie fully expected the baby to be a girl, and knew that the name Mary (after Paul's mum's) was also a safe bet.

"Come on in," Maggie said. "John can you throw their coats in the spare room?" Her arms were full of a sleeping Jamie.

"Certainly. Come on, Macca, take it off." John gave Paul one of his patented leers.

"You wish, Lennon." Paul shoved his and Linda's coats at John with a grin.

"Happy New Year," Linda said to Maggie, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I'd give you a hug, but I don't think my arms are long enough." She looked down at her expansive stomach.

"Only for a little while longer. Come on, let's get you off your feet," Maggie said to Linda. She turned to Heather. "Julian is playing upstairs, why don't you go find him?" The little girl nodded and then scampered away to find her playmate.

Maggie watched Linda ease herself down on to the couch.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"Sure, some tea?"

"Oh, I'll get it, luv," Paul said, cutting into the conversation. "You've got your hands full with my godson." He paused to give Jamie a gentle kiss on the forehead before following John into the kitchen to brew some tea.

"Our men are so domestic. I love it." Maggie smiled at Linda. "How did we get so lucky?"

Just then the door opened and Ringo poked his head in. "Anyone home?"

"Come on in, Ringo," Maggie called out.

"Happy New Year, luv," Ringo said. He waited until Maureen and their two boys were inside before closing the door against the cold winter air.

"Just throw your coats in the spare bedroom," Maggie said. "John and Paul are in the kitchen making tea. George and Pattie should be here any minute. Hey, Zak," Maggie addressed Ringo's oldest son. "Jules and Heather are upstairs if you want to go play with them."

Zak looked up at his mum and Mo nodded for him to go ahead. "Take your brother with you." Zak looked slightly disgruntled at having to have his 2-year brother tag along, but he took Jason's chubby hand and headed upstairs to find the other kids. Maureen shook her head and laughed at Zak's expression.

"And how is our little Jamie today?" Mo joined Maggie and Linda on the couch. "Oh, he's precious. Can I hold him for a bit?"

Maggie handed Jamie over just as the door opened a third time. George and Pattie stumbled shivering inside. "It's cold out there!" Pattie said brightly. "Oh, baby!" she exclaimed and joined the other women clustered around Jamie. "Let me have a turn holding him!"

"I just got him," Maureen protested. "Go take off your coat and then you can have him."

Maggie looked over at George and they exchanged a look.

"Come on, luv. Tell me what you've been up to." George threw his coat on a chair and then slung an arm around Maggie's shoulder and walked her towards the kitchen. "Is changing nappies all it's cracked up to be?"

"And more," Maggie said only half-seriously.

"Well, maybe someday," George said. "But for now I count myself as better off out of it."

Maggie wasn't sure what to reply to that. George would eventually have a child, assuming he was still on track to meet Olivia. But the subject of children where George and Pattie were concerned made her uncomfortable with secret knowledge, and she and was happy that the subject was dropped as soon as they reached the kitchen.

"I think the film could be really great," Paul was saying.

"What film are we talking about?" George asked.

"The one we're doing of the making of our next album."

"Oh, right. That one." George said flatly. He opened a cabinet and pulled out a tumbler and then poured himself a stiff helping of whiskey from the bar.

"Yeah. I think it'll sort of let the fans into the process, you know?" Paul continued.

John nodded. "It'll definitely be something different. I've got a bunch of things started, but I'd like to run them with you here before we start recording."

"Sure, yeah," Paul agreed.

"George, you've got a bunch of songs too, right?" Maggie said, trying to get George to open up.

"Yeah." George said, before tipping back the drink.

Maggie gave Paul a meaningful look. They'd had a long conversation not long ago when Paul brought up the idea to her of doing a film of their next album. It was very hard for her to not give away too much, but she'd seen "Let It Be" and knew that a lot of the making of that album had not been very pretty. George and Paul had had at least one nasty fight on camera – and who knows how many off.

Speaking not only as a friend and a fan, but also as the head of Apple, Maggie had insisted that for the first time John, Paul, and George should each have an approximately equal number of songs on the album. It took some time to convince Paul that this was not meant as a quota, but more to give George's songs to get some equal time with John and Paul's. She knew he was capable of terrific things if they would only give him a chance.

Paul cleared his throat. "That's great about the new songs, George. Listen, we were talking and we want to be sure that we put at least 3 of yours on this album. I know things haven't always been balanced, but we all feel that you've really developed as a songwriter and we want you to be represented."

George looked at Paul suspiciously, like Paul was just selling him a line.

"It's in Apple's best interest to have all our artists represented equitably." Maggie said smoothly.

George moved his suspicious gaze onto Maggie. "That's all well and good for you to say now…"

"We mean it George. We know you've been unhappy." John put in.

"And you, Ringo? How many songs do you get?" George turned to Ringo.

Ringo shrugged. "I dunno. Maggie wants me to do one about Octopusses sometime, right?" he said dubiously.

"That goes on the album after this one." Maggie corrected him and then smiled. "Sorry, spoilers!"

Just then three kids zoomed through the kitchen, the fourth toddling after them.

"No running in the house, you little buggers," John yelled over the noise of the laughing kids. He scooped Julian up and held up upside down. "Oof, you are getting heavy, son! Not going to be able to do this much longer," he said over Julian's giggles. He gave Maggie a sort of wistful look. Julian was growing up so fast. But it brought a smile to Maggie's face to see John and Julian having fun together.

Just then Jason, who was still trying to follow Heather and Zak, who were chasing each other through the living room, took a spill. Maureen ran to pick up him, followed by Pattie who was still fussing over Jamie.

The house was full of noise and people and confusion, but Maggie couldn't remember when she'd been happier.

"How much longer 'til midnight?" Pattie asked. The children were back upstairs and the adults were gathered around the TV with wine, cheese, and other snacks, watching The Fabulous Elvis on BBC2, and waiting for the new year.

"It's only 9:30, so lots of time to go," Maggie smiled. She kind of missed the modern US cheese-fest that was New Year's Eve, with the ball dropping in Times Square. But watching the Beatles getting excited about an Elvis program was pretty fun too. Without an announcer counting down though, they had to actually consult a clock occasionally.

Paul picked up a stray piece of paper that had been sitting on top of a stack on the coffee table, and then burst out laughing. "Ha! This is George's Hell Angels memo!"

"Let me see!" Linda said, leaning over as best as she could to see the paper Paul was holding.

"Oh, just read it aloud!" Mo called out.

"You do the honors, George," Paul said, sailing the paper over to his bandmate.

"I'll have you know this is a perfectly reasonable memo," George said, slightly miffed.

"George," Maggie said, trying to keep a straight face. "You know I love you, but you invited the HELLS ANGELS to hang out at Apple! Without even asking me! Or the others!"

"So?"

"The HELLS ANGELS!"

"Read it! Read the memo, you wanker!" John heckled.

"Fine." George cleared his throat dramatically and then used his best posh tone of voice. "Hell's Angels will be in London within the next week, on the way to straighten out Czechoslovakia. There will be twelve in number complete with black leather jackets and motor cycles. They will undoubtedly arrive at Apple and I have heard they may try to make full use of Apple's facilities. They may look as though they are going to do you in but are very straight and do good things, so don't fear them or up-tight them. Try to assist them without neglecting your Apple business and without letting them take control of Savile Row."

The whole group was in stiches by the time he got to the end of it.

"They may look as though they are going to do you in," Maggie cried with laughter.

"Don't uptight them?" Linda tried her best to stifle her giggle.

"Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time," George said, still defensive.

Maggie turned and gave him an incredulous look.

"Ok, ok, maybe it wasn't."

"We're still still trying to get the building cleaned up!" Maggie exclaimed, tossing a pillow George.

"Oh, look, Elvis is on." George said, pointing to the TV. He turned the volume up in an attempt to drown out the remaining giggles and then tucked the pillow behind his shoulder.

"Shush, you're going to wake, Jamie," Pattie said, gently swatting George's arm. She still had claim on the baby.

"Oh, it's all right," John said. "He sleeps through anything."

After the Elvis program ended, everyone got up to stretch. Mo and Ringo went to check on the kids upstairs, Linda sheepishly vanished into the bathroom again, Pattie walked Jamie around the house cooing (which made Maggie's heart hurt), and John and Paul disappeared into the music room.

That left Maggie and George. "Come on, let's go make some fresh tea," Maggie said, as George looked forlornly in the direction of the music room. "Let Lennon/McCartney do their thing."

"Their thing where they hog all the A-sides?"

"Hey, I meant what I said earlier. I want you to have equal representation on the next album." Maggie sat on one of the kitchen stools and let George take over the kettle. "I think the White Album was a step in the right direction, but it was a double album. I really think…"

"I don't need charity," George interrupted Maggie stiffly.

"It's not charity, George. It's getting John and Paul to treat you like an equal partner, rather than as their 15-year-old little brother. If the Beatles are going to go on, it's going to require a paradigm shift. And… and…"

"And you don't want your favorite band to break up." George said, softening.

"Of course not. Not when you all have so much more you could do together."

"Tell me honestly, Maggie. How many albums do we have left? That you know about?"

"I can't…"

"Bollocks. You told me I'd die of cancer if I didn't stop smoking. You can't tell me what the lifetime of my band is going to be?"

Maggie sighed unhappily. "Two more. The next one will really rip you guys apart and none of you will be happy with it. It'll get shelved for a while and released in 1970 as your last album. The one that comes after this one…"

"The one with the octopus song?"

"Yeah, that one." Maggie gave a smile. "That album is going to be absolutely iconic. And I promise you that one of the best and most famous songs on it is yours. It's going to be amazing and you can't not do that album. Beyond that? It's up to you guys now. But I know, I feel, in my heart of hearts that the Beatles don't have to break up."

"So do I go down in history as the guy who broke up the Beatles then?" George asked.

"You know, funnily enough, no." Maggie was thoughtful. "Most people blame Yoko. Realistically, she wasn't really the sole cause, but she didn't help things. She got between John and Paul. And then Alan Klein got between John and Paul."

"The Stones' manager?"

"Yeah. Paul wanted Lee Eastman to manage you guys, the rest of you wanted Alan. And Paul eventually sued the band to legally separate his finances."

"Paul sued us? What a wanker." George set the kettle down hard on the stove.

"Yeah, except that Paul was right. Alan destroyed Apple and stole your money, and that was pretty much that. Until much later."

"How could you not tell me any of this?"

"George, it's pretty hard to know what to keep for myself. You guys have to be free to make your own decisions…"

"Again, bollocks. You've interfered plenty, and it's worked out pretty well."

"Not all of the time." Maggie shook her head. "I didn't save Brian."

"But you tried."

"And failed."

"And so your next mission is to save the Beatles?"

"If I can."

"Well, Yoko should be out of your hair at least," George said. "And since we have you and we don't tour anymore, the management discussion hasn't even really been an issue."

"Which is why I want you to be happy," Maggie said with a sigh. "I don't want you to leave the Beatles, but I also don't want you to be creatively stifled."

"Well, I'm not through with the band yet," George finished pouring out fresh cups of tea. "Let's just see how it goes. And just let it be for now."

"Sure," Maggie said with a shrug. "Let it be." If only George really knew what he was asking.

George and Maggie carried cups of tea out to the living room, and Maggie nearly dropped hers when the door opened with a crash.

"Happy New Year!" Mick Jagger stood in the doorway, letting a blast of cold air into the room. "Isn't anyone going to invite me in?"

"Come in, you great oaf, you're letting the heat out!" Maggie exclaimed.

"That's the spirit," Mick said. "Speaking of, I brought champagne."

"What are you even doing here?" Maggie said.

"I've come to see the baby, of course. I'm on my way to another party, but I thought I would stop in first. To see the baby." Mick set the champagne down on the coffee table and ambled over to Pattie.

"May I?" Mick looked over at Maggie.

"Yes, if you wash your hands first."

Mick meekly rinsed his hands in the bathroom and then gently cradled Jamie in his arms. "He's beautiful. Didn't know you had it in you, Lennon," he called to John. And then in a stage whisper, he said to Maggie, "Don't worry, our little secret is safe with me!" and gave her a wink.

"You wish, Mick," Maggie said, shaking her head and reclaiming Jamie.

"I do, luv, I do. Let me know when you get tired of Lennon here. We'll talk." Mick gave her another wink.

"You do know that baby is named James Paul, not Mick, right?" Paul broke in.

"Not helpful, Paul," Maggie said.

"Oh, so it's Paul's is it? Looks like he's been busy!" Mick said, giving the very pregnant Linda a leer.

"Oh, just get out," Maggie pushed Mick gently towards the door with her free hand.

"All right, luv. Here's a little something for the wee lad." Mick handed Maggie a small parcel. "I'm off! Happy New Year!"

A chorus of Happy New Year's echoed through the room and out the door into the cold night.

"What's in the package?" Pattie asked. She took Jamie back to allow Maggie to open the gift. Inside was a tiny baby rattle shaped like a guitar.

"I hope our son has musical talent…" Maggie said, shaking the rattle. "With his friends and family he's going to have no choice but to be a musician."

Just then, Jamie woke and let out a loud cry.

"I'm pretty sure he's got the lungs for it," George said.

Linda accompanied Maggie upstairs to change the baby.

"So, out of curiosity… Do any of the Beatles kids become musicians?" Linda asked, watching as Maggie lay Jamie down on the changing table and grabbed a fresh diaper.

"Oh yeah," Maggie replied. She was spouting off spoilers left and right, why stop now? "All of the Beatles have at least one kid who is a musician. Zak, of course, will be a drummer. Quite a well-regarded one too. Julian puts out some albums and he does really well in the 80s especially. And he sounds just like his dad when he sings. Which I'm hoping won't be quite as heart-breaking this time out since we intend on keeping John safe and sound. And…" Maggie purposely skipped over Sean Lennon. "And… I probably shouldn't tell you, but you'll have a son someday. He plays guitar, though he hasn't really started a musical career yet, as such. But he probably will. Your girls don't end up being musicians, though I have to say it would be nice if at least one of the Beatles' daughters did."

"What about George?"

"What about George?" Maggie asked, busying herself with making faces at the baby.

"I saw the way you looked at Pattie, especially when she was carrying Jamie around."

"You can't tell…" Maggie said, looking around to make sure no one else was eavesdropping. "I shouldn't even really…"

"I promise I won't say a word."

"All right, well George has a son, but it won't be with Pattie. Pattie isn't going to be able to have children despite all her efforts."

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that Pattie and George eventually split up?"

"Probably not. But you'll be shocked and amazed at the way it goes down. If it goes down the same way this time."

Linda was quiet as she absorbed that piece of information. Maggie was grateful when Linda let that line of questioning go, at least for now.

"And George's son?"

"He's a musician too."

"And little Jamie?" Linda smiled at Maggie.

"He's got no choice," Maggie said, picking him up and kissing his nose. "He's got big shoes to fill." For both John and Sean.

"Come down, it's nearly midnight," John yelled up the stairs.

"We'll be right there!" Maggie called back. She poked her head into Julian's room. "Come on, kids, it's not long 'til midnight!"

Maggie, Linda, and the five Beatle children made their way down to the warm, bright living room. There really was no better place to be, Maggie thought to herself, than ringing in a New Year with people you love.

* * *

><p>AN Thanks for sticking with us, readers! Two notes - I did find online a copy of the real TV schedule for December 31, 1968! And George's memo was real. :-)


End file.
